The Santa Claus Murders
by MrsMCrieff
Summary: It's London, it's snowing and someone is killing Santas. Molly and Sherlock are hot on the trail and soon hot for each other (sorry, couldn't resist that one). Rated M for eventual smut. Came first in the Best Casefic and third in the Best Multi Chapter 2020 SAMFAs.
1. Chapter 1

**Based on a variety of prompts that I asked for earlier this year. The Santa Claus Murders are mainly inspired by srhittson and Anasazi Darkmoon with contributions from a few guest reviewers. I have a soft spot for a Sherlolly Christmas fic so I hope you enjoy both Christmas (if you celebrate) and the Sherlolly goodness.**

**The reason I've posted it so early is that with about 14 or 15 chapters I need to get a shuffle on if we're to get it all up in time. **

**Chapter 1**

It was shaping up to be one of the worst Christmases on records; maybe even on a par with the Big Freeze of '63 when parts of the sea around the U.K. coast had even frozen over.

Molly was struggling into work in moon boots and a coat which made her feel like she was a walking sleeping bag but if it kept her warm she didn't care how ridiculous she looked...and she did know she looked ridiculous.

As if to confirm her thoughts as she walked into work Sherlock saw her wearing it for the first time and he literally snorted with laughter. She'd been making her way to the lockers in the little room off from the lab where he was working when this happened and when she heard him she flattened her lips and slowly spun round to face him. His face was creased with laughter and he was even pointing at her.

'Molly, what the hell are you wearing? You look like a walking slug.'

She had already removed her mittens and stuck them in the pockets and she pulled her bobble hat off and unzipped the jacket.

'Alright Sherlock calm down, it's not that funny. It may have escaped your "cocooned in taxi cabs mind" but it's bloody freezing out there. They said on the radio it was minus ten this morning so I would rather be warm than stylish.'

'And you can't be both?'

'Not in my price bracket.'

She shrugged out of the coat feeling a little embarrassed to look so unattractive to the man she was still endlessly in love with. He just seemed to look as he always did, wearing a dark blue suit jacket and a light blue, fitted shirt. Did he make no concession to the weather?

She left her coat lying over one of the desks along with her scarf, the one her aunt Evie had knitted for her a couple of christmases ago, and she asked him about it as she walked closer.

'I might look the picture of sartorial elegance but I assure you Molly it's an illusion.' He stood up and she saw a pair of dark blue jeans and as she came around the bench she could see a pair of hiking boots on his feet.

'Plus I have had to resort to wearing thermals under my clothes and adding a thermal liner to my Belstaff; my gloves have a sheepskin interior...and my scarf is extra thick and extra warm. A present from a thoughtful friend last year.'

He gave her a sideways smile as he sat back down and she realised with a jolt that he meant the one that she'd bought him and she smiled in return. 'Oh, I didn't think you liked it.'

He tilted his head and grimaced just a little. 'Well, the colours might not be quite my normal style but it is very warm and as you say it is warmth that matters at the moment. Was it still snowing when you arrived?'

She nodded. 'Has it even stopped in the last week? You might actually have to give up on your taxis soon, they're saying that some streets in London are becoming impassable because of the drifts of snow. Is Baker St OK?'

He huffed. 'Only just...and that's only because I've been paying some of my homeless network to keep it clear. It's getting harder and harder though.'

Molly felt a sudden pang of worry. 'Oh God, how are they coping? They can't be sleeping on the streets in this weather.'

Sherlock sat back and shrugged. 'Some still are...against my better advice I might add. I'm helping where I can, financially, and Mycroft has secured those that want it places in a local shelter.'

Molly made a mental note to herself to give some money to one of the London homeless charities. She was a bit angry with herself that she hadn't even thought of those with no home to keep them warm.

She spent ten more minutes with Sherlock going over the tests he was carrying out. She'd given him a set of eyes two days earlier and it was those that he was working on now. His caseload had been quiet for the last couple of weeks, since the weather had really set in, and she knew he was bored and restless and she liked to try to keep him occupied.

She was just about to leave him when his phone rang.

'Could you pass me that Molly?'

She turned and frowned. 'Where is it?'

'In my coat.'

Molly leant against the desk and folded her arms. 'Seriously, it's right next to you. Do I look like your slave?'

Sherlock sat back smiling and reached for his phone. 'No, but I once got John to retrieve my phone from my jacket...when I was wearing it...Lestrade, what have you got for me?'

Molly couldn't help but laugh at the glee in Sherlock's voice when he'd told her that anecdote...poor John, Sherlock did run rings around him sometimes.

She picked up her coat and scarf and carried them through to the locker room with half an ear on Sherlock's conversation. Sounded like there might have been a murder overnight and whilst that was bad news for the victim it would be good for Sherlock to have something substantial to get his teeth into. She grinned to herself as she speculated that she'd be more than happy to be his distraction if he was ever up for that.

By the time she'd put her stuff away and made her way back into the lab Sherlock was pulling on his coat and shoving various things in his pockets.

'You off then?'

His eyes lit up as he looked at her. 'Yes, Lestrade has a murder. Santa has been killed in one of the department stores on Oxford Street.'

He started to make his way out and then he paused and turned back. 'Do you want to come with me? I could do with an assistant.'

Molly felt a little surprised but equally quite excited by the suggestion. 'Oh, umm...yes, I would. I mean I'd need to check with Mike though...'

He waved his hand dismissively. 'I'll do that, you grab your sleeping bag...sorry coat, and we can be off.' He smirked as he made his joke and she rolled her eyes.

'Yeah, yeah very funny.' She couldn't help but feel a thrill of excitement though as she went to retrieve her things. It was rare that she got to see an actual crime scene...she normally just saw the body in her morgue.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

Even though she'd just been out in it the cold took her breath away as they left the hospital. Sherlock was already looking out for a cab, his hand raised before he quickly lowered it to loop around Molly's waist to stop her from slipping over on the icy pavement. She still had her boots on which were normally quite good but right out at the front of the hospital the ever present snow had been trampled down so much it had turned into a bit of an ice rink, so much so that one of the hospital workers was busily shovelling out grit...not soon enough for Molly though.

She clung onto Sherlock as she got her footing back, thanking him and knowing she was blushing at being in such close proximity with him.

He gave her a quick smile and then turned his attention back to hailing a cab but he kept his arm around her waist as he did.

'How come you never slip? Your shoes are no better than mine for this weather.'

He glanced down at his boots and smirked. 'I don't know. I must be inherently more stable than you...or maybe you just like falling for me.'

She punched his arm lightly but they both chuckled at his joke. She loved it when they were like this, just the two of them together, having a laugh and a joke. She felt as though their friendship had grown over the last few months but he was much more serious when other people were around...even John.

That got her thinking and when she climbed into the cab she turned a little to face him.

'By the way, have you got Rosie a present for Christmas yet?'

He scrunched up his nose. 'No, do I have to? I mean she's not even two so she's hardly going to notice.'

'Yes, you're a godparent, we both are, it's expected.'

He rolled his eyes. She knew how much he hated societal expectations but she was determined he'd be a good godfather to Rosie.

'Well, seeing as we're both godparents maybe we could buy something together, I wouldn't have any idea what to get her anyway.'

'Oh, well, yes I suppose we could. Just don't expect me to do all the leg work...we can go shopping together.'

'Fine, if we must. Just let me know when.'

Molly couldn't help but smile to herself as she looked out of the window. She knew it wasn't necessarily good for her heart but she loved spending time with him. It seemed to have been happening more and more since that horrible time with his sister. John was busy with Rosie and his brother was spending more time overseeing the island prison where said sister was apparently locked up; Molly shuddered a little at the thought of her. She'd never met her but what she'd heard hadn't sounded good. She'd almost killed John...Sherlock had been forced to threaten to shoot himself and she herself had been dragged into it all with that weird phone call. She'd known almost as soon as Sherlock had hung up that something wasn't right and it had been a scary few hours until she'd had word that they were all safe. John had come round to her flat the next day with Rosie and told her the full story and when she'd finally seen Sherlock she had just hugged him and thanked him and asked him if he was OK.

He'd accepted her hug surprisingly well and it was one of her most cherished memories. She'd felt closer to him since then.

It wasn't too long before the cab pulled up outside the Branbridge department store, one of the last few independent shops. The street was already teeming with shoppers even though it was only mid-morning on a week day. The murder certainly didn't look as though it had closed the store.

Sherlock checked his phone and turned to Molly. 'Come on, the body's on the fifth floor in a storage cupboard off one of the staff rooms. Apparently Lestrade wanted to close the whole store but the owners went direct to the Home Secretary and she overrode him so only part of one floor is closed. Damned moneymen putting commercial interests over our needs, you can guarantee that 90% of any evidence has already been lost with all these people tramping in and out.'

Molly smiled to herself at his disgruntlement, it was an argument that she had often heard from him and no doubt Greg had heard it endlessly as well.

They finally reached the door leading into the crime scene area; it was guarded by a bored looking police officer and Molly was surprised to see that the sales floor itself was open to the public and there were already a few people milling around with their children looking at toys to buy for Christmas. She stopped for a moment before going through the door so she could remove her coat; it was perfect for outside but she quickly got way too hot inside.

As she did she found herself accosted by a middle aged man. He was fairly nondescript, neither good looking nor awful, a little overweight, a little receding but smiling pleasantly.

'Hi, Sorry...sorry to bother you. I was just wondering if you knew whether Santa's grotto was going to open today only I've brought my son to see it and I can't seem to find anyone to get an answer from.'

Molly smiled vaguely and looked around to see if there were any staff nearby but it was just her and the police officer.

'Umm, I'm not sure but I wouldn't have thought so...not today anyway.'

His face fell in disappointment. 'Oh, OK. Has something serious happened then?' He looked passed her, down the corridor where Sherlock had gone.

At this she became a little more cautious suddenly realising that he might be a journalist fishing for a story. After all she couldn't see his son he'd just indicated towards a toy aisle when he'd mentioned him.

'Sorry I'm afraid I can't discuss that. I need to go now.'

He nodded and took a step away. 'Yes, of course. Thank you.' Then he turned and headed off.

Molly spun around and smiled at the officer. 'Hi, I'm here with Sherlock Holmes and Detective Inspector Lestrade.' She pointed to where they were stood further down the corridor, Sherlock was gesturing angrily as he said something to a frustrated looking Lestrade who waved as he saw her. It must have reassured the Police Officer because he lifted the tape and let her through.

**So, the scene is set...snow is falling, Sherlock and Molly are together and Santa is Lying dead in a department store. It must be Christmas! **

**I normally try to wait until December before thinking about celebrating but I'm already getting fuzzy, excited feelings so what they hell...let's start the fun times early this year xxx**


	2. Chapter 2

**I'm so happy that so many of you are on board with this fic even if we are getting into Christmas a little bit too early. **

**Anyway here's hoping I can keep you on board with the second chapter. **

**Chapter 2**

Molly dumped her coat and bag on a nearby table then as she walked towards the two men Lestrade greeted her with a smile. 'Hey Molly, it's not often we see you at a crime scene?'

She grinned in return. 'I know. It was Sherlock's idea, he said I should come.'

Greg indicated towards the Consulting Detective who was crouched down looking at something on the carpet with his extendable magnifying glass. 'I was just telling him the circumstances...'

At that Sherlock stood back up and scowled. 'Yes, no need to repeat them let's just get to the body.'

He turned away and Molly and Lestrade gave each other a conspiratorial eye roll and smile behind his back.

Greg moved passed him and pointed through a doorway. 'It's through here...as I said the cleaner found him first thing. Cause of death looks pretty straight forward, his heads been stoved in by something.'

He led them into a crowded room and Sherlock huffed. 'I can't work with all these idiots around. What the hell are they all even doing?'

'Alright, not so loud you git, they'll hear.' Greg raised his voice. 'Can I have everyone's attention...we just need to clear the room for ten minutes...ten minutes thank you.'

There was a bit of grumbling but one by one they all left the room. Molly turned to leave as well but Sherlock caught her arm. 'Not you, I want your opinion.'

Molly knew she was blushing as she nodded her head in acquiescence and she enjoyed the fact that he kept his hand there as the other forensics filed past. When they were all out he released her and moved forward whilst Greg watched from the doorway.

The body itself was lying in a small cupboard, filled with cleaning equipment, just off the main room. It looked as if it had been dragged there in a hurry in an attempt to hide it albeit not for long.

Molly pulled on some latex gloves and knelt at the side of it. 'Male, aged approximately 55 to 65. Slight discolouration on his left cheekbone which could indicate he was punched or hit in some way just before death, I'll be able to confirm that at autopsy.'

She shifted slightly so she could see the back of his skull. She didn't need to move the body as it was already lying on its side. 'As Greg said he has a major blunt force trauma wound. It hasn't pierced the skin so no blood-loss but death would have been immediate. I can't see any other injuries but I'd need to do a full exam to be sure.' She felt the neck and moved his arm slightly. 'I'd estimate he's been dead about ten to twelve hours.'

She stood and moved out of the way so Sherlock could move in. He'd been prowling around the room examining different things and he seemed so feral and intense that Molly felt her heart beat pick up a notch at the sight. She loved watching him work, it was always, always a turn on even with a dead body between them.

As he knelt down he caught her eye and seemed to hold her gaze for a moment and she felt her face colouring and she hoped he couldn't deduce her arousal. He didn't say anything though until he turned his attention to the murder victim.

'Nearer to 65 than 55, you're always too generous with people's ages Molly.' He cast her a quick smile. 'Lives alone, borderline alcoholic, not well off hence desperate enough to take this job.'

He sat back, half kneeling. 'Given the facial injury it looks as though he got into a fight, fell back and hit his head and that caused his death. His assailant panicked and dragged him in here.'

He turned to Lestrade. 'I think you might want to check the top of any thick, round-topped items for blood, preferably before they get sold to some toddler as a Christmas present.'

Greg nodded. 'You're sure it's nothing more than that?'

Sherlock stood up and dusted off the knees of his jeans. 'Yes, check CCTV. Whoever it was didn't come here intending to kill so they will probably have been caught somewhere. Just an argument gone wrong not premeditated murder...shame.'

'OK, will do. You still happy to do the autopsy Molly?'

Molly turned and started to answer when Sherlock interrupted.

'I'm sure she will be but given there's no rush I may as well take her to get some lunch before she heads back to Barts.'

At this Greg snorted. 'You? Taking Molly for lunch? That's not very like you.'

Sherlock seemed to raise himself up so he was looking down on the Detective Inspector. 'You might take her for granted Greg but I try not to.'

At this the other man snorted with laughter. 'Yeah whatever you say Sherlock. OK well thanks for your help Molly and enjoy your meal. Don't forget to let me know about the Christmas do?'

Molly chuckled and picked up her coat putting it back on. 'Thanks, I will.' Then she followed Sherlock as he made his way out into the main body of the shop.

Once she caught up with him she looked at him quizzically. 'So, are you really taking me to lunch?'

He glanced down at her and nodded. 'Yes, why not? You haven't had any breakfast so must be hungry by now, you don't have to be back at Barts straight away and seeing as this is a bit of a non-case I may as well eat as well. Plus I meant what I said to Lestrade, I don't want to take you for granted. I know I have in the past and I still do so consider this a thank you...now where do you want to go?'

'I don't mind, anywhere will do. Maybe just a pub lunch? There's a nice one just down the street, though it might be a bit busy with all the Christmas shoppers.'

They came out into the now even busier street and Sherlock offered Molly his arm.

As she accepted it and linked arms with him she looked at him suspiciously. 'Hmm, first lunch and now this...are you after something?'

He put his gloved hand on his chest and gave her a hurt look. 'Me, no. I'm thinking in advance given your tendency to slip on ice like you did this morning. As I said then you have to stop falling for me, after all you might hurt yourself.'

She gave a wry smile and under her breath muttered. 'Too late.' Then she pulled herself together hoping he hadn't heard. 'Hey, did I tell you about what happened in yesterday's anatomy class with the new intake of students...' and she launched into the tale enjoying the way it made Sherlock laugh out loud. They often shared the same humour and Molly fleetingly thought once more how perfect he would be for her if only he felt the same way.

They made their way into the already crowded pub and luckily managed to find a table for two tucked away near the back by a window. They both took a moment to look through the menu and then Sherlock asked what she was having.

'I think I fancy a turkey and cranberry sandwich. Do you want to share some chips?'

He smiled at her. 'I don't mind. And to drink? Wine?'

'Go on, why not? One won't hurt, red please.'

She watched as he stood and made his way through to the bar quickly getting the barmaid's attention...and why wouldn't he...he looked both rich and good looking. Molly knew for a fact that if she'd gone to the bar she'd have been ignored for ten minutes.

It felt both weird and completely natural to be here with Sherlock. Weird because they'd never gone for a meal together before. The only close examples she could think of were when he'd sat with her in the Barts canteen one evening when he'd been waiting for her so he could see some bodies...she remembered they'd had tattoos on their feet and she'd been angry with herself for missing them. The other time he'd brought her a bag of quavers and called it lunch. She smiled at the memories.

He made his way back carrying her wine, looked like a large one, a pint for himself, and a wooden spoon with a number drawn on; no doubt this was to identify their food order.

As he settled back into his seat Molly could feel his knee pressing against her leg and it seemed to send a slight tremor of lust skittering through her...it was as though her body thought they were on a date even though her head knew they weren't.

'So, what was this Christmas do that Greg was talking about and how come he hasn't mentioned it to me?'

Molly shrugged. 'It's just drinks on Friday in the local near Scotland Yard and he probably didn't mention it to you because you've never attended any of the ones he has invited you to before.'

Sherlock frowned and took a sip of his pint. 'Are you going?'

She smiled. 'Yes, I haven't got any other plans that night and they're not a bad bunch on a night out.'

'Maybe I could go with you then? I could pick you up and we can share a cab.'

Molly tried to cover her shock but she suspected she didn't do very well given the way his eyes narrowed. 'Oh, are you sure? I mean, I'm happy for you to come, of course I am, it just doesn't seem like your kind of thing.'

He shifted in his seat and his leg slid against hers once more. 'Well maybe I need to try to be more sociable. Staying home in an empty flat night after night gets a little tedious after a while.'

At this Molly nodded. 'I know exactly what you mean. It's a date then...I mean, not a date date just well...'

He chuckled. 'I know what you mean Molly. Ah, here's the food.'

He waved the waitress over and the conversation was put on hold temporarily whilst they both tucked in. It was basic but very tasty and Molly closed her eyes momentarily and let out a hum of satisfaction as she took her first bite. 'Mmm, it's delicious. I hadn't realised quite how hungry I was.'

A minute or two later and they started to chat again.

'Are you off to your parents for Christmas again this year?'

Sherlock huffed and rolled his eyes. 'I suppose so, I'm ever hopeful that we'll be fully snowed in by then and unable to leave London. You?'

'I was planning to go and spend it with my mum but she's got a last minute holiday deal to Spain with her friend so I'm going up after New Year instead. I might have a word with Mike and work it instead like I've done previously.'

Sherlock frowned. 'But you love Christmas. I don't know why but you do. It seems a shame for someone who loves Christmas as much as you do to spend it working.'

Molly just shrugged and focused on picking up a chip and dipping it in mayo. She didn't want Sherlock to see how much this was affecting her. She'd been gutted when her mum had let her down, they'd never been that close but even so...

There was a slight pause and then he spoke again. 'Don't work. Come with me to my parents. One more won't matter and anyway they'll think you're a possible love interest for me and that would not only delight them but it would take the pressure off both Mycroft and myself for once.'

Molly looked up at him in shock. 'I can't do that.'

He frowned again. 'Why can't you?'

'I don't know, I mean I'd be intruding.'

'How? John and Rosie are coming and the year before last I took one of my homeless network...you'll be a step up.' He smirked as he said that and she shook her head and chuckled.

She wasn't quite sure how she really felt about the invite but she thanked him and asked him to check with his parents first before she'd accept. He nodded and then screwed up his napkin and threw it down onto his now empty plate prompting Molly to check her watch.

'Ooh, I'd better get going. Mike will wonder where I am if the body arrives at Barts before I do. What are your plans?'

'Not sure, I'll probably head back home. John often calls round after his shift to go through our emails...we occasionally get a good case from the in box but most of them are unfortunately puerile and idiotic...not worth my time.'

He stood and followed her out and as she got near the door she pulled on her coat.

'You still look ridiculous.'

She rolled her eyes at him and laughed as she fished in her pockets for her bobble hat but there was no sign of it. She started to look back at where they were sat but it was then that Sherlock lifted up his hand to show he had it.

'It was on your chair, must have fallen out of your pocket. Here...can't have you getting cold now can we.'

He stepped forward and pulled the hat over the top of her head. His expression was tender as he gently pushed tendrils of her hair under the wool and Molly found her heart beating faster and her eyes falling to his lips. It seemed such an intimate gesture in so many ways.

His eyes met with hers and seemed to linger for a moment before he stepped back. 'Well, take care Molly.'

'Wait.' Her hand was on his arm holding on to him before she'd even thought about what she was doing.

He turned back to her and she hesitated before taking the plunge. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek just as he had with her a couple of times before. His skin was smooth and close shaven where her lips pressed against it. She could smell his cologne and it made her mouth water and her body want more. She tried to keep her voice level as she spoke. 'Thank you for lunch and thank you for this morning. I really enjoyed it.'

His lip curled up into a half-smile. 'As did I Molly...I'll see you Friday if not before...for our date.'

He winked and turned on his heel before pushing out through the pub doors and into the cold. Molly had to take a moment to compose herself before she was able to leave herself.

**So there's oodles of chemistry starting to build and lots of opportunities to spend time together over Christmas. But what of the murders I hear you say...well, maybe Sherlock's missed something...he does that sometimes. **

**Anyway, let me know what you think. I always, always love reviewing reviews. They warm my heart xx**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey, I am so glad that you are all enjoying the lighter, flirty tone between Sherlock and Molly…it's definitely blurring the lines between them. **

**Some of you have been asking whether we'll get Sherlock's perspective and its funny but that's exactly what you're going to get. Shall I let you read on?**

**Chapter 3**

As Sherlock walked away he found himself brushing his fingers over the point on his cheek where Molly had kissed him and he smiled before rolling his eyes at his own apparent sentimentality. He hadn't expected to feel anything when she kissed him but he had and it had surprised him. It was different from the times when he'd kissed her and he knew exactly why that was so.

The last couple of months had been filled with all the repercussions from finding out about his sister but recently he'd found himself feeling both bored and lonely and on each of these occasions he'd found his mind turning towards his pathologist. He knew why. That phone call, forced on him by his sister, had compelled him to really face about his feelings for Molly in a way he hadn't let himself previously.

He had long known that she had the potential to capture his heart but in the past it had been easy to ignore and push down; the work had been his primary focus and he had thought it would be all he would ever need.

Since Sherrinford that wasn't the case. He'd thought long and hard since then about whether a relationship was something he could or should pursue. His life was still dedicated to his work and his work was still dangerous and he hadn't wanted that life for her...but dammit he wanted her now in a way he never had before and it was getting harder and harder to deny himself.

He pulled the scarf, the one that reminded him of her, tighter around his neck to keep out the biting cold and he plunged on through the crowds hoping for a case or something to distract him, at least for now, from Molly Hooper.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

Molly didn't really get much chance to think of Sherlock and their lunch until that evening. Work had been busy given that she'd been out for most of the morning and she'd ended up working some overtime so it was late by the time she got home. Toby fussed around her ankles as soon as she walked in and once she'd taken off her coat, hat and mittens she set about giving him food and then making herself something to eat as well.

She sat mindlessly watching some home improvement show as she sipped on an indulgent glass of wine and thought through the events of the day and as she did she couldn't help but smile to herself. Somehow she had not only had lunch with Sherlock but he had invited himself along with her on Friday and invited her to his parents for Christmas. It was the last which both excited her and terrified her the most. She had never met his parents. According to John they were lovely and most unlike Sherlock and Mycroft...oh God, his scary brother would be there as well.

She took another sip of her wine and calmed herself by reminding herself that John and Rosie would also be in attendance. She just wished that they still had Mary. They would all be coping with their first Christmas without her and Molly knew from when her dad died that firsts could be very hard indeed.

Whilst the whole day had been very unlike the Sherlock of old she knew how much the last couple of months had affected him and she was just grateful that not only had he got through it but he hadn't fallen back into drug use. It was the one aspect of his life which frightened her the most. She knew from her work every day in the morgue how easy it was to overdose or to take one bad drug.

She closed her eyes and remembered how she had felt as he'd put her hat on her head. He had stood so close and looked at her so tenderly. It was similar to when he'd congratulated her on her now dead engagement to Tom. In her fantasies she could almost imagine that look as a prelude to a kiss...a proper kiss, not just one on her cheek. Or in today's case...his cheek. What she wouldn't give to be in a real relationship with him...to know what it would feel like to kiss him, to touch him...to...

She snapped her eyes open and knew she was blushing...even if she was home and on her own. It didn't matter how long she knew him her feelings for him weren't getting any better. She craved him as though she was the drug addict.

It got her thinking and then worrying about what she should wear on Friday evening. It was only the night after tomorrow and she'd have no time to buy anything new but she found herself wanting to look her best...even if she did have to top the outfit off with her ridiculous coat. If only she'd pushed the boat out and bought something more flattering but it was too late now.

She pushed off the settee and picked up her wine. Time to scour her wardrobe and see what she could come up with.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

She didn't see Sherlock or Lestrade the next day but on the Friday she texted the latter to let him know that both her and possibly Sherlock would be joining him and his team at the pub.

She then texted Sherlock to confirm he was still going and what time he'd be picking her up. It didn't take him too long to reply to say he'd be with her at 7pm.

When the evening rolled round she was dressed in an above the knee black cord skirt topped with a festive glittery green and red jumper. She was also wearing some red, over the knee woollen stockings. She wasn't a fan of tights but she still wanted something to keep her legs warm. And she had her black, heeled boots on. Overall she was happy, she felt sexy with the stockings but comfortable. There shouldn't be anything that Sherlock could mock about the outfit and that was the main thing.

She was just adding some snowman earrings when the doorbell went. A quick glance at the clock told her that it must be the man himself and she made her way to the door to let him in.

'Hey, come in...ooh what have you got there?'

He followed her back into her front room and then handed her a largish, black bag branded with the Belstaff logo.

'Call it an early Christmas present...it's for you.'

Molly took the heavy bag from him looking as surprised as she felt.

'You bought me a present?'

He raised his eyebrows quickly and gave her a wide smile. 'Yes, I thought it was about time. I have a few years to catch up on...go on, open it.'

The bag was heavy paper done up with a black ribbon, the logo embossed on both sides. As she bent over to untie it she didn't see Sherlock's eyes caught by the quick flash of a slim, pale skinned thigh visible above her red stocking.

She quickly undid it and inside was something wrapped up in tissue paper. She pulled it out and opened it up and there was a very expensive looking dark red winter coat.

'It's got a down filling and a detachable fur lining and hood so should keep you warm enough. And I'm hoping it will look a tad more stylish than your current coat. Try it on.'

Molly felt like she was in shock as she picked it up. It was so soft and touchable. She slid it on and even though it felt warm it was lightweight. The fur tickled her neck and made her want to pull it closer.

'Oh God Sherlock you shouldn't have. It's gorgeous but it must have cost you a fortune.'

He shrugged and stepped closer. 'Pfft...Who cares about the cost! It suits you, I knew this colour would look right on you.'

He took hold of the lapels and pulled it closer and as he did his hands brushed over her breasts and made Molly gasp ever so slightly and she saw him press his lips together before averting his eyes and stepping away.

'Well, shall we go?'

'Wait Sherlock, I don't know how to thank you...'

He waved his hand. 'No need to thank me Molly, believe me it's my pleasure, I'd far rather see you in this coat than that other god awful one.'

He smirked and it seemed to lighten the atmosphere and she relaxed a little as she did up the coat.

'Fair enough...well thank you anyway. I absolutely love it.'

'Good, I'm glad you like it.'

She locked up the flat and followed him down the stairs to the waiting cab and this time it seemed natural to take his arm as they walked over to it...especially seeing as Molly's footwear was even less appropriate for the weather conditions. It was snowing once again and Molly couldn't help but giggle as she saw the flakes catching in his hair.

He helped her into the cab and followed her in and then took a moment to ruffle his hair to shake them all out as he gave the cabbie the address of the pub.

'So, go on...who's going to be there tonight? I know John isn't going, he said something about visiting his sister this weekend seeing as he and Rosie will be with my parents for Christmas. Oh, by the way they said you joining us wasn't a problem. As predicted my mother seemed more excited than she should be by it so don't let it be said you haven't been warned.'

'I seem to be thanking you an awful lot at the moment Sherlock but thank you. I'm looking forward to it. You'll have to let me know what I should get them as a gift...'

'Oh for god's sake what is it about all this gift giving at this time of year. You'll get them a gift then they'll want to get you one and it's just swapping crap for no particular reason...and I'll be stuck in the middle not knowing or caring what you should get them and they should get you. Why don't you all just buy something you want and give it to yourself? That way everyone's happier.'

Molly just laughed at his outburst. 'Fair enough you're probably right...but seeing as you just had the pleasure of seeing me open your gift maybe you can see why the rest of us mortals do it. Every so often you buy the right thing and you see the pleasure on the face of someone you love and it makes it all worthwhile...oh we're here already.'

She turned to look out of the window and Sherlock's grumpy expression softened. 'Yes, I suppose it does.'

He refused to let Molly pay for the cab but he relented when they made it into the pub and he let her buy the first round of drinks.

They quickly spotted their group. They seemed to have taken over a separate, raised area a couple of steps above the rest of the pub. Sherlock slid onto the end of the bench seat and there was room for Molly at the side of him.

Lestrade stood and briefly kissed Molly on the cheek by way of greeting. 'Merry Christmas Molly, I like your coat...is it new? You had a different one on the other day.'

Molly ignored Sherlock's snort of laughter and greeted Lestrade in return.

'Yes, it is. It was a present from a friend.' She wasn't sure quite why she hadn't mentioned it was from Sherlock but she just got the feeling it would excite more of a reaction in Greg than it was worth and his reply confirmed her belief.

'A friend eh? I'm suspecting with gifts like that whoever it is will be more than a friend before too long. Oh, here's Gregson and his partner.'

Greg waved to another couple just entering the pub and Molly took her coat off wondering just what Sherlock might have made of that last comment but she wasn't feeling quite brave enough to ask him.

**There you go, do you like the idea of Sherlock buying Molly a better coat? Maybe those blurred lines are starting to disappear completely. Next time, the party and drinking…inhibitions worn down and inner desires brought to the fore…what do you think?**

**(I should mention that I get very confused about the official timelines in Sherlock so for the purposes of this fic Rosie is almost two, Mary & John had her first Christmas with her and this therefore is everyone's first Christmas without Mary. Hope that all makes sense.)**


	4. Chapter 4

**So, I may have thrown a sex filled hand grenade into this chapter. Here's hoping you're all still on board at the end...gulp.**

**Aside from that a slightly belated Happy Thanksgiving to all my American readers and no that December is almost upon us we can really let loose with Christmas...good times!**

**Chapter 4**

The pub was noisy and busy but Molly could feel herself getting into the Christmas spirit as she sat next to Sherlock and looked around. The music system in the pub was pumping out Christmas hits and almost everyone had something festive on; whether it was Greg's Santa hat or Donovan with tinsel sewn into the neckline of her dress. Molly took a sip of her drink and smiled; she loved it all.

The only problem they seemed to be having as a group was a complete lack of any free seats. Molly had been enjoying sitting next to Sherlock but when another couple in their group showed up the girl asked Molly if she could 'sit on her boyfriend's knee' so that her and her fella could do the same.

'That way all of us get a seat.' The girl, who had some very cute snowflake earrings, had smiled widely at Molly whilst Molly had frowned in confusion.

'She means me Molly. I have no objection if you do.'

Molly swung her head round to look at Sherlock who seemed to find the whole enterprise amusing and so that was how she found herself sitting on his knee.

They'd both taken a bit of ribbing from Lestrade and Anderson initially but it didn't take long for them to get distracted by drinks, conversation and other people.

Molly was acutely aware of the fact that she was balanced on Sherlock's knee and she tried hard to both not move too much and to not put too much weight on him. It didn't take him long to notice though and he wrapped his hands around her waist and pulled her a little closer so she was more firmly sat on him. He left one hand on her lower thigh and used the other to retrieve his whiskey.

'Relax Molly. It's not the first time I've had a woman sit on my knee and if it helps you are lighter than the last one was.'

He smiled in a slightly nostalgic way that had Molly seething with jealousy. He must be talking about Mary's maid of honour. She'd hated the fact that he'd dated her even if it was supposedly for a case.

She leant forward and picked up her wine and took a large drink of it before striking up a conversation with Mike Stamford. He'd just arrived with his wife and had bought Molly another glass even though she'd protested against it.

'Nonsense, you're my best member of staff. It's the least I can do. Sherlock, what can I get you?'

Sherlock put in his order and then carried on chatting with Anderson at the side of him. Molly was glad to see the two men getting on better. Their relationship had been quite antagonistic in the first few years but Anderson's loyalty when Sherlock was "dead" seemed to have mellowed Sherlock and there appeared to be much more mutual respect between them now.

Even though he wasn't paying her any real attention she felt as if there was an unseen tether between them. Every shift of his hands or legs seemed to set off chain reactions in her body that just built on all the unresolved sexual tension of the last week. She figured that he was probably oblivious to how it was making her feel but she couldn't help it. She knew she ought to not combine her feelings with alcohol but it was already too late and she was caught up in the Christmas mood and enjoying feeling so happy and care free.

It was during her conversation with Mike's wife that she became aware that Sherlock's hand had shifted slightly on her leg. It was now just under the hem of her skirt and his fingers were lightly skimming the top of her over the knee, woollen stockings. The realisation make her stammer and trip over her words for a moment. She could only think that he was distracted and unaware of what he was doing but truth be told it felt so damned good and was just making her downright horny.

Ten minutes later and Molly nipped to the loo and the bar, to get her round in, and she repositioned herself back on Sherlock's lap. She wondered where his hand would fall this time and was surprised when once again his hand moved back to her leg. She was definitely feeling the effects of the wine now and she twisted around on his knee so she could face him a bit better.

'Are you sure you're not getting fed up of me yet?'

Sherlock smiled and shook his head. 'No, it's fine. My legs lost all sensation about an hour ago so I can't feel anything at all right now.'

He lifted up his hands in defence and chuckled as she went to punch him and then he started to protest. His hands moved to her waist and her leg and gripped her to hold her still.

'Stop wriggling like that. Seriously Molly, I'm not made of stone and you're going to make it impossible for me to stand up and be seen in public soon.'

For a split second she wasn't sure what he meant but then her eyes widened and her cheeks coloured as she realised he was implying that she was arousing him and making him hard.

'Oh.'

Their eyes seemed to lock together and the music and chatter faded into the background and Molly knew she was letting the drinks control her actions as she leant forward and kissed him.

The second her lips met his she seemed to realise what she had done and when he didn't react she opened her eyes to see his were still open and he was looking at her slightly quizzically...she felt sick.

She pulled back immediately apologising. 'Oh God, I'm so sorry. I think I've drunk too much...I...I should go.'

With that she stood on slightly shaky legs and made her way back over to the ladies toilets just wanting to get away and pull herself together before she gathered up her things and left. What an idiot, what had she been thinking? He'd just been having a bit of a laugh and she had simply read way too much into it.

She was halfway down the corridor when someone caught hold of her wrist and pulled her around.

It was Sherlock and the expression on his face seemed to be one of fury mixed with...what? On anyone else she would have said desire...

'Do you think you can just kiss me and leave Molly? That you can spend the whole evening turning me on and then run away?'

'I...I...thought you weren't interested. I thought I'd over stepped the mark.'

'Then you thought wrong. You just caught me off guard...you always catch me off guard somehow Molly Hooper.'

Molly had no answer to that but it was quickly apparent that she didn't need one. He pushed her against the wall and then, in a complete turnabout, he was kissing her.

Within seconds the kiss had turned into one of the most passionate of Molly's life. His mouth was hard against her own, stealing the very breath from her lungs leaving her dizzy but still desperate for more. His hands were on her backside pulling her as close to him as it was possible to get and yet it still felt too far away.

She moaned as his tongue moved against her own and she wished more than anything that they weren't in a busy pub; he must have felt the same because he suddenly took her hand and pulled her into the ladies toilets and then into an empty cubicle at the end of the row, locking the door behind them.

Molly had never had sex in such a grubby or such a public place but in this exact moment she didn't care. She wanted him more than she had ever wanted anyone else before. It was as if her brain had completely disengaged from her body; her hands moving completely under their own power as she tugged his shirt up and out of his jeans and felt the heat of his skin under her palms.

His hands were equally desperate as they rucked up her skirt enough to be able to put his hand inside her knickers. Then those long fingers of his were touching and rubbing her in all the right places as he kissed her once more, his tongue deep in her mouth twisting with her own. She could feel an orgasm starting to build and it had her hands moving to the button on his jeans and as she brushed against the harsh material she felt his erection and she couldn't help but cup it through the thick material, feeling him pulse in response as she swallowed his groan.

It was a matter of moments before she had him released and as soon as she had he lifted her; her back coming to rest against the solid, tiled wall. He made her feel as though she weighed nothing at all. She moved her knickers to one side and positioned him and he let her slide down onto the length of him and the rest of the world seemed to fade away to nothing as she took a moment to adjust to the size of him. The emotional impact of what they were doing was there in the background and Molly knew that it was going to have massive ramifications but for now she just wanted to enjoy that unique feeling of being joined to another human being in such a deeply primal way. And this wasn't just anyone...this was Sherlock...and being with him just felt so much better than it ever had with anyone else...even in such unedifying circumstances.

As he started to move they kissed once more and it felt slower and more emotional than it had just a few moments ago. She wanted to pour all her love into him so he could finally feel it.

His lips moved to her neck and she dug her hands deep into his curls and as she pulled on them he let out another groan which seemed to echo down into her very soul. Gradually his movements became deeper and more rhythmic and it just felt so damn good...until finally she felt her climax overtaking her.

She must have started to cry out because he covered her mouth with his own once more. His right hand was squeezing her breast through her jumper and his breathing was becoming more and more ragged and she knew he was close. She moved her mouth to his neck and let her tongue trail up the length of it before sucking on the skin below his jaw and she felt him start to break. His thrusts were so powerful that she knew her back would regret it in the morning but she didn't care. He thrust into her twice more and then he came. She could feel every fibre of his being taut and strained and heard her name falling from his lips as he spilled himself inside her and she honestly believed she would never hear anything so perfect ever again.

As they started to relax he moved to kiss her once more and Molly fleetingly wondered if she would ever feel his lips against hers again. She knew that this had to be an aberration, a one off...the chances of it being more were just too fantastical to imagine.

Silently he withdrew and let her down until her feet touched the floor, then he turned away whilst he sorted his clothing out.

He turned back and as he caught her eye she could only see conflict in his expression and she just gave him a shy smile and nodded. He nodded in return...a silent acceptance that they were OK and then he left the cubicle. Molly immediately locked it behind him so she could sort herself out but she still heard an outburst from someone coming into the ladies and it was very quickly apparent who that someone was.

'Oy freak, this is the ladies. What the hell!'

Sherlock said nothing and must have left because Molly heard Sally going into one of the other cubicles.

She nipped to the loo herself and cleaned herself up and then she listened whilst Sally washed her hands and used the dryer...then she heard the door open and close and she sighed in relief that the coast was clear.

She took a deep breath and pushed open the door only to be confronted with Donovan leaning against the wall opposite with her arms folded across her chest.

'I knew it. I knew the freak wasn't alone. Did you two just have sex in there?'

Molly tried to keep her expression neutral as she walked past her to the sinks but she knew she was probably bright red. 'Don't be ridiculous.'

'Oh my God, you did. You had sex with the freak.'

Molly felt anger bubbling up. 'He's not a freak, stop calling him that.'

Sally turned so she was leaning sideways on the wall watching her and Molly saw that her expression had altered from glee to concern.

'Are you OK? I mean, it was consensual wasn't it?'

'Of course it was...what kind of man do you think he is?'

'Sorry, Sorry it's just...well...you have to admit it's a bit weird. I mean...Sherlock...I always thought he was gay or something...but maybe not. So, are you two an item?'

Molly dried her hands and shook her head. 'No, no I don't think we are. It was just a moment of madness. God...I can't believe I...we...just did that.'

There was a pause and she looked at Donovan and smiled weakly. 'I think I need a drink.'

Sally returned her smiled. 'Yeah, I think you probably do. Come on.'

They made their way back to the others and Molly couldn't help but cast her gaze around looking for Sherlock. It was Lestrade who answered her unasked question.

'If you're looking for Sherlock he's just gone. He bought you a drink before he left though and said to tell you he'd no doubt see you soon.'

He indicated to a large wine sitting on the table. Molly sat down heavily, her exuberant mood of a few minutes ago gone. She picked up the glass and took a swig.

Sally sat down next to her and nudged her elbow. 'Hey, are you OK?'

Molly nodded but she knew her expression was probably giving her away.

Sally went on. 'Listen, I know we haven't really been mates or anything but if you need to talk I'm here.'

Molly looked at her and gave her a smile which felt like it was twisted on her face. 'Thanks.' She turned to the group. 'I think I'll probably shoot off as well.

**OK hit me with it...I know it's a bit sudden but the alcohol, the atmosphere. Their need for each other just took over and I was just along for the ride. Let me know what you think.**


	5. Chapter 5

**We're into December now and I've been opening my advent calendar dutifully every morning. Have to admit I treated myself to a beauty calendar this year and I'm loving it...plus it's not as fattening as my normal chocolate one.**

**As for the fic I'm so glad you weren't too mad about the smut although a few of you are angry with Sherlock for leaving straight after. In Sherlock's defence he was a little overwhelmed by how fast his defences broke down and he needs time to file away all the details into his mind palace because you can be sure he'll be retaining it.**

**I can't guarantee he'll be good in the way he responds but he won't be cruel. Read on.**

**Chapter 5**

Luckily for Molly when she hit her bed on getting home the wine and the long week at work meant that she was asleep before she had a chance to worry about what had happened that evening.

It was late morning on the Saturday before she started to awaken and when she did she was in the middle of a lucid dream about being with Sherlock. His hands were on her naked skin sliding and gripping as he thrust inside her and she just wanted to come. She could feel herself on the verge of a climax but she couldn't seem to achieve it and she couldn't seem to talk to Sherlock or tell him what she needed. It meant that when she fully awoke she felt groggy and disorientated as well as frustrated.

She pushed her covers down to get some air and lay there with her hand over her eyes as she tried to make sense of her dream and it was then that she started to remember the night before and her eyes snapped open.

Had she really had sex...with Sherlock...in some pub toilets? Part of her was horrified and the other part was trying to make sense of it. Had it really been him? Was she sure it wasn't some kind of weird realistic dream?

She pushed herself up to sitting and grimaced as her head pounded. She was dehydrated and a little hung over and she desperately needed was a cup of tea and a shower; maybe then she'd feel well enough to figure out what had happened.

When she made her way into the bathroom she used the loo and then picked up her toothbrush only to see graphic evidence in the mirror. Her eyes widened and her fingers immediately moved to the mark on her neck. Yup. It was official. Molly Hooper, aged 34 and a half, was sporting a love bite. Brilliant!

She closed her eyes and had a sudden memory of Sherlock sucking on the skin under her jaw as he thrust into her and she let out a low moan. God, even the memory of it, fuzzy though it was, was good.

She took a quick shower, wrapped up in her favourite and fluffiest dressing gown and then she went and curled up on the settee with a cup of hot, sweet tea.

Not for the first time she wished that Mary was still alive. Mary would have helped her to work out what this all meant because somehow she had gone from lightly flirting with Sherlock and in a mad moment kissing him to having sex with him in the ladies toilets.

'Oh God I hope no one heard us.'

Toby looked up from his spot on his chair as she spoke and she smiled at him.

'I had sex with Sherlock last night Toby. What do you make of that? What the hell should I make of it? Does this mean I have a chance with him?'

She scoffed and rolled her eyes. 'Who am I kidding? He was as drunk as I was...probably more so given what happened. How am I ever going to face him again?'

Her phone buzzed with an incoming text and she retrieved it from her bag mentally noting that she needed to put it on charge as it only had 18% left in the battery.

It was from an unknown number.

**Hey Molly hope you don't mind, I got your number from Greg. Just wanted to make sure you're OK after what happened with Sherlock last night. If you want to chat I'm free for a drink tonight. Let me know, Sally x**

Her fingers hesitated over the keyboard before she huffed and nodded and sent a reply. She needed someone to talk to about this and given that Sally already knew and already knew Sherlock it made sense. They'd never been friends...never really interacted that much but Molly did not have a wide list of options available to her.

It turned out that the two of them didn't actually live that far apart which was a good thing as the weather was really not letting up. Whilst it wasn't snowing for once it was still bitingly cold and Molly found herself plodding through the odd drift of snow which almost came up and past her moon boots as she made her way to their meeting place. It was a welcome relief to head into the local pub that they'd chosen and feel the warmth flooding over her body.

Sally was at the bar and they greeted each other a little awkwardly. They were more than colleagues but not yet friends and Molly half wondered whether they ever would be.

It was fairly quiet in the pub. This one wasn't city centre and it seemed the locals were either saving their money for the full Christmas weekend the next week or had headed elsewhere. It meant they were able to find a quiet corner to hole up in and they sat and took a sip of their drinks.

'So, thanks for the invite. I hadn't realised you lived so close.'

Sally smiled. 'No, me neither...about you I mean. How long have you lived here?'

'Six years now. It's definitely got a bit more up market since I moved here but that's good as it means the value of my flat has gone up. You?'

'Two years and I'm just renting. I was living with a guy but he found out I was having an affair with a guy at work and it all broke up.'

Molly had a sudden recollection of the gossip that she'd heard and she tentatively asked if that was the affair with Anderson.

'Yeah, not sure what I saw in him really. I mean he's a nice enough guy but not really my normal type. We both left our partners, him his wife, and we tried to make a go of it but an affair is one thing and living together is something else. Anyway, he got totally obsessed with Sherlock after we thought he'd committed suicide. I think we both blamed ourselves to some extent and it just got worse when that Moriarty guy turned out to be real and Sherlock was vindicated.'

'I went out with him...Moriarty.' She clarified as Sally looked a little confused.

'Really...bloody hell. How did that come about? I never heard anything.'

Molly took another sip of her drink...the concept of "hair of the dog" seemed to be working quite well tonight.

'We only went on three dates. He was nice, at least I thought so at the time. He was pretending to work in IT at Barts but he was just trying to get close to Sherlock. Once I found out I broke up with him.'

'Wow, you're a bit of a dark horse aren't you Molly. Dating the country's most famous criminal and shagging Sherlock Holmes.'

Molly knew she was blushing but she couldn't help the grin that spread across her face.

Sally continued. 'So, have you heard from him today?'

At this Molly had to shake her head. 'No, but I really didn't expect to. I mean he didn't make me any promises. We just had too much to drink and got a bit carried away...no big deal.'

Now it was Sally's turn to shake her head. 'I don't know. I mean come on it's not like he's been out with a lot of people is it. I've only ever heard him linked with that girl who spilled all to the papers. Did you read some of those articles? They were hilarious and obviously made up. Lestrade even said at the time that Sherlock was a virgin...though he obviously isn't now. I used to think he was gay and with John but nothing ever came of that either. Have you known him to date anyone?'

Molly shook her head. 'No. John told me the thing with Janine, the one in the papers, was for a case and the only other time I thought he might be involved with someone was when he identified a woman from her body and not her face...he seemed upset by her death and I did wonder...but I don't think he was actually involved with her.'

She finished her drink and offered to buy Sally another. Five minutes later and they picked up the conversation once more.

'So, did he seem like he was a virgin?'

Molly thought back to that night. 'Not really...no. He seemed pretty confident.'

'Freak always seems confident...sorry, sorry I know you don't like me calling him that. It's just habit. He was so weird when I first met him. He even followed me home once...trying to get info on a case that I was involved in. That was before he started working with Greg. I thought he was some kind of ghoul, wanting to see the bodies and insinuating himself with the police. He wouldn't have been the first...there's plenty of them out there. I see now that he's different and believe me I mean that in more ways than one. So...come on, what do you even see in him? Is it just his looks coz I can understand if it is.'

Molly found herself relaxing more, the conversation seemed to be flowing quite easily and it was nice being able to talk about her feelings for Sherlock with someone. It had been a long time since she'd been able to do that.

'I'd be lying if I said his looks had nothing to do with it. To me he's just drop dead gorgeous. I love how tall and slim he is; I've always liked a guy with an athletic build rather than all muscles. So that's definitely what initially got my attention but then I saw how intelligent he was and it just added to the appeal. I should have been turned off by his insults and bad temper but who doesn't love a bit of a bad boy.'

Sally raised her glass to that comment. 'Yup, been there done that.'

'So, it was just the whole package but then I saw beneath the bravado. I saw him when he was sad and scared and uncertain and it turned from lust into love and I've been lost ever since. I tried moving on when he was "dead".' She used her fingers to draw the speech marks in the air. 'I even got engaged...but it was no good. When Sherlock came back I couldn't pretend I didn't love him more than my fiancé and I had to break it off. I've been single ever since.'

'Shit...that's rough. I didn't realise you had it that bad.'

There was a silence for a moment but it didn't feel awkward...more contemplative.

It was Sally who continued. 'So, what now?'

Molly shrugged. 'I don't know. Carry on as we have before?'

'Can you?'

Molly had another sip of her drink whilst she thought through her answer. 'I can't say as it will be easy but I don't want to lose his friendship. Even if that's all we ever have it's still important to me.'

Sally titled her head. 'Hmm...'

Molly looked at her. 'What? What are you thinking?'

'Well I still can't help but think this has all happened for a reason. We both know that Sherlock doesn't do anything he doesn't want to do...'

Molly interrupted. 'Yes, but he had been drinking...'

Sally waved her hand in dismissal. 'If you ask me that just brought how he really feels to the surface. Don't get me wrong...I'm not saying the guy is in love with you; I'm not sure he's capable of that...but, well, once you've had sex with someone once it's easier and easier to do it again isn't it. You just need to engineer a situation and see if you can't seduce him.'

Molly almost spat her drink out. 'I can't do that.'

Sally let out a laugh. 'Course you can. And from everything you've said you've got the proper hots for him so I'd say strike whilst the memory is still clear in his mind. Who knows where it might lead?'

She grinned at Molly who just closed her eyes and slumped back in her chair. 'Humiliation...that's where it might lead.'

She opened her eyes to find Sally shaking her head. 'Nah, I think it's worth a shot. What have you got to lose.'

**I don't know guys...what has she got to lose? Should she go for it? **

**And don't worry the Santa Murders haven't been forgotten, they'll be making a reappearance soon enough.**


	6. Chapter 6

**I am so glad that you are liking seeing a bit more of Sally. I have never really used her much in previous stories, just the off line of dialogue here and there, so it's been fun exploring her personality in a bit more depth. I like that she's similar to Mary in telling Molly to go for it with Sherlock. I hope she has her own voice though.**

**How are all your Christmas plans coming along. I think I've got most of my gifts but I'm behind with writing cards (I find that such a faff). The tree goes up this weekend though...I love that bit.**

**Anyway, shall we see how the seduction goes...**

**Chapter 6**

Sally's words stayed with Molly keeping her awake at night and distracting her during the day. It still took her another day to finally decide to take her advice and engineer a situation but that was in part only because the ideal excuse presented itself in the form of a spare liver and kidney from a recent poisoning case.

She started to have second thoughts about the whole enterprise though when she found herself knee deep in snow and freezing cold as she battled her way down Baker St.

It had stopped snowing at least over the last 24 hours and the main roads were reasonably passable but it seemed that the winds had caused drifts and Baker St seemed to be one of those side streets that had suffered. Molly looked back at where the taxi had dropped her...it felt like she'd been battling through the snow for miles but it was only a matter of yards and she could still see the traffic occasionally going past the entrance to the road.

She looked towards Sherlock's home. At least it was closer to there than if she turned back...he was going to think her demented for coming around in these conditions though. At least the lights were on casting a warm glow onto the snow below. If this had been anyone else she'd have given up and turned back by now but she'd come this far.

By the time she got to his door she was shivering with cold even though she was wearing his new coat and at least three layers beneath...not exactly seduction material. She was also exhausted; it had been much harder work than she'd expected.

She knocked on the door and waited but there was no response. She knocked again...Mrs Hudson must be out. She was starting to get desperate as she knocked a third time but finally she saw the curtain flicker in his flat and his face briefly appearing. She saw him frown but then he was gone hopefully to come down and let her in but that fleeting glimpse did little to steady her nerves.

The door finally opened to reveal Sherlock in his pyjamas topped off with his thick, camel dressing gown.

'Molly, what the hell are you doing here?'

He glanced beyond her as if to confirm just how stupid she was and she felt every inch of her mortification.

'I'm so sorry, it seemed like a good idea...I hadn't realised this road would be so bad...I...'

Her breath caught in her throat as she found herself suddenly on the verge of tears and she had to bite back a sob.

Concern washed over his features and he held the door wide gesturing for her to come in.

'Come in, let's get you warm.' He took the cool box off her and smiled. 'I take it you've brought me something.'

Molly nodded but didn't trust herself to speak just yet.

She followed him up the stairs and into the welcome warmth of his home. The fire was flickering in the hearth and whilst there weren't really any decorations there were fairy lights strung over the bookcase and mirror giving the room a homely...even romantic atmosphere.

He put the cool box on the kitchen table and then came over to help her remove her coat and he frowned as he looked down at her wet, snow-covered boots and jeans.

'You need a hot shower...you're going to catch your death if you don't.'

She let out a feeble laugh. 'You sound more like Mrs Hudson than Sherlock Holmes.'

He chuckled. 'Maybe that's because she's always saying it to me when I come in wet or cold. Come on...I'll turn the shower on and find you something dry to change in to.'

She shivered once more as she followed him through to the bathroom where he pointed out clean towels. 'I'll leave some stuff on my bed, you can use this door to go straight in.'

He pointed to the second access door and she nodded and then waited whilst he turned on the shower.

'It's a liver and kidney from Mr Peterson by the way.'

He turned to her and his eyes were alight. 'The poisoning case?'

She nodded. 'Yes, the body was released this morning and he'd asked for it to be used for science...so...'

She shrugged and smiled and then giggled when Sherlock gripped her shoulders and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. 'Oh, this is brilliant. Now I understand why you trudged down here. Thank you...you can sort yourself out from here can't you?'

And with that he was gone.

Molly enjoyed the shower, finally feeling the heat starting to seep back into her bones, but by the time she got out she felt exhausted again. She could barely keep her eyes open.

She made her way into Sherlock's bedroom, his inner sanctum, and she took a deep breath as she looked around. It all felt so very masculine and very "him".

The bed was king sized and looked so inviting and she couldn't help but think that a five...maybe ten minutes kip would just revitalise her...pep her back up...

...It was dark when she awoke. The bedroom light had been turned out and the covers had been pulled over her still towel clad form. She sat up and rubbed her eyes glancing at the clock to see it was just after midnight. She'd been asleep for over four hours.

She leant over and fumbled in the dark to find the switch to the bedside lamp; she couldn't believe she'd slept for so long. Sherlock must have found her splayed out asleep wearing nothing but a towel...could her seduction plan be any more disastrous.

It was thirst that got her out of the bed...she could murder a cuppa and so she picked up the shirt hanging on the back of the door and put it on before heading out to see if Sherlock was still around.

She found him in the kitchen glued to his microscope. His eyes flicked towards her briefly and she saw a small frown pass over his face and she suddenly wondered how bad her hair was. She hadn't given it a moments thought but given she'd just slept with it wrapped up in a towel it wasn't going to be her most flattering look. She brought her hands up to run them through it in an attempt to bring it under control. She didn't realise as she did it just how much the shirt rode up on her thighs...barely covering her modesty.

'Hey, sorry, I fell asleep...I...I mean you saw that obviously. Do you fancy a cuppa? I'm gasping.'

She indicated towards the kettle before picking it up and filling it.

'Yes, tea would be good. Umm...did the pyjamas I left out not fit?'

She turned the kettle on and then spun around horrified. 'Pyjamas...I didn't see them. I thought you'd left...'

She waved her hand down her front towards the shirt and saw Sherlock's eyes follow her hand down before he looked back up at her and she suddenly wondered if there might be hope for her seduction plan yet.

'No matter...it looks...umm...fine.'

He turned his attention back to his microscope and Molly made her way over and leant against the kitchen table at the side of him. She saw his eyes flick to her legs and back to the scope and she smiled to herself.

'I take it you're looking at something from the organs I brought you.'

He nodded. 'Yes, the liver...it's fascinating. Do you want to take a look?'

She smiled and he moved out of her way a little.

Rather than bend her knees to bring herself level with the scope she bent over knowing the shirt would ride up to just below her bum, she also took her time.

When she turned her head to look at him he was fast but not quite fast enough and she saw his glance move from her legs and backside to her face.

'I agree...fascinating. I bet you have all kinds of plans.'

She turned and leant against the table once more but this time it was between Sherlock and the microscope.

For one of the first times in her life she heard him stutter and stumble over his words. 'I...umm...yes. I should...umm...'

He started to stand and she instinctively reached forward and put her hand on his shoulder to stop him.

'Sherlock, have you thought about the other night?'

Her words came out just above a whisper but his eyes caught hers and she saw them widen and the pupils dilate and it gave her a modicum of confidence.

She took a step forward and looked down at him.

'A friend of mine has a theory.'

He swallowed heavily and looked up at her. 'What theory?'

She sat down on his lap, her legs straddling him and his breath hitched in his throat as he lifted his hands up at his sides. 'Molly...'

His voice had almost a warning tone but it wasn't matched by his facial expression which looked all kinds of conflicted.

'She reckons that once a couple have had sex once it's so much easier for them to do it again.'

As she spoke she undid a couple of the buttons of her shirt then she gently took Sherlock's right hand and used it to push the material to one side before pressing it onto her naked breast.

'What do you think?'

His hand was still on her skin but he didn't do anything to stop her. As she watched him his eyes seemed glued to his hand and she saw his mouth open and shut and then open again.

She took his other hand and placed it on her thigh and slowly he slid it up to her backside. As it moved under the material of the shirt he must have realised that she was completely naked underneath because she saw his eyes dart up to hers and she saw them dilate even more than they already had been. He swallowed heavily and she rocked her hips towards his, closing her eyes and letting out a moan. It was all or nothing and she still wasn't 100% sure he was going to go along with it.

The kettle clicked off to indicate it had finished boiling but neither of them moved and Molly rocked her hips once more, starting to feel a growing frustration...an ache deep inside her that only he could fill. This time she got a reaction. His hand tightened on her backside and his thumb slid over her nipple and she saw him nod imperceptibly as though he'd made some kind of internal decision. They moved towards each other at the same time and then they were kissing and it was so much better than Molly had remembered.

This time he didn't taste of whisky and her head didn't feel foggy with alcohol. This time she was perfectly aware of what they were doing; of every movement of his hands; of the fact that he smelt mouthwateringly good. His kiss was confident and he took control of it, moving his hand from her back to hold her face; tilting it so he could deepen the kiss. She found herself moaning and pressing her hips closer to his, wanting to feel him inside her.

Her hands pushed at the waistband of his pyjamas until she could reach in and take hold of his growing erection. As she did his control over the kiss faltered and he broke away letting out a loud groan.

Part of her wanted to go slow, to explore him fully but the more dominant part of her just wanted to feel that intimate connection again and so she lifted herself just enough to position him and then she slid down onto him.

He let out a low, rumbling expletive as she did and it sent shockwaves of lust pulsing through her.

His hand moved back to her hip and he gripped her tightly stopping her from moving initially whilst he got used to the feeling.

His eyes when he looked at her were fully dilated and hooded with lust and she wasn't sure she had ever seen him look so gorgeous.

'Fuck, Molly, you feel so damn good.'

**OK, so maybe it didn't go quite to plan initially but it seems our Molly has got there in the end. What do you think about how it's all gone? Maybe some talking would have been good or do actions speak louder than words?**


	7. Chapter 7

**Not a huge amount of reviews from the last couple of chapters, hope I'm not losing you guys; we've still got a way to go with both their relationship and with the case.**

**In other news I'm looking forward to seeing the new 1917 film with Benedict and Andrew back on screen together. Will any of you be going to see it?**

**Chapter 7**

As his lips moved to her neck she started to rock her hips against his feeling him buried deep inside her, hitting all those sweet spots which meant that her climax was inevitable.

She gripped the back of his chair with one hand to help her control her movements and she threaded the other into his beautiful dark brown, almost black, curls as he bent her back slightly so his mouth could reach her breast.

Watching him was intoxicating, seeing his tongue circling her nipple before his lips closed over it sucking it deep into his warm mouth. His eyes glanced up and met hers momentarily and she felt her muscles clench around his cock causing him to pulse inside her. Every movement seemed to cause a reaction and a counter reaction and it was all leading her to that moment where her orgasm would take her over. When it finally hit her she couldn't help but throw her head back and cry out his name, letting him take over the responsibility for their movements.

As she came back down from her high he lifted her just enough that he could stand and place her down on the table next to his microscope; roughly pushing the instrument to one side to give them more space. Throughout it all they never broke their connection and once she was laid out she wrapped her legs around his hips and hooked her feet together as he started to thrust inside her.

It didn't matter that she had just come she knew she was on the verge of a second and possibly more powerful orgasm and so she urged him on with her words and actions. He bent to kiss her again and their teeth clashed as they just simply let their mouths meet and their tongues twist together. He started to grunt with the effort and she knew he was close. When he begged her to come again the sound of his voice uttering such a plea took her over the edge and she felt herself tightening around him and triggering his own release. He thrust into her as hard as he could and she felt him coming inside her and it just felt so utterly right.

For a moment he collapsed onto her and she took his weight, loving the way he pressed against her, knowing they couldn't be more joined than they currently were…but all too soon he pulled away. He kissed her briefly before standing and pulling up his pyjama trousers before offering her his hand so he could pull her to sitting.

She quickly made her excuses so she could go to the bathroom to clean up and when she did she couldn't help but grin widely. It looked like Sally had been right with her assumption and Molly was half tempted to text her...she giggled to herself at the idea.

Once she was done though the nerves kicked in. She hadn't really thought about what to say to him after.

She made her way out to find him finishing off making the cups of tea that had been forgotten earlier. He turned a little and smiled at her. 'I figured you'd be even more thirsty by now.'

She smiled in return and went over to take her mug from him.

'Thanks.'

He raised an eyebrow. 'Are you thanking me for the tea or the sex?'

That made her chuckle a little. 'Both?'

'You never cease to surprise me Molly. First you take my virginity in a pub toilet and now you seduce me in my own kitchen.'

Molly felt all the breath leave her body. 'Wait, what? You were a virgin?'

He turned and leant against the cupboards. 'Yes. I'd gone over 38 years without sex and now I've succumbed twice in less than a week. What does that tell you?'

Molly's mind was reeling. She was trying to think back to that night in the pub. Had she somehow pressured him? What a way to lose your virginity?

'Sh..should I be apologising?'

He smirked at her. 'On the contrary, I think I should be thanking you.'

Her legs felt a little shaky and she went and sat down on the chair that they'd just finished having sex on. The tea when she drank it was too hot and she felt the burning all the way down into her chest but she hardly noticed.

'So, what now?'

He put down his mug and pushed away from the counter. 'It's past one o'clock and it seems that sex makes me tired so how about we sleep for now and leave any discussions about the future for the morning.'

Molly nodded her head and finished her drink.

He was making his way to the bathroom when he turned to face her. 'Do you have any objections to sharing my bed?'

She shook her head. 'No, none.'

'Good.'

As he closed the door she stood and made her way back to the bed that she had not that long since vacated. She might have had a partial sleep but she knew she wouldn't have any trouble having more sleep. Her mind and her body just felt a bit numb. The sex and his revelations had sapped her reserves and by the time he came out of the bathroom and joined her she was already half asleep. She wasn't so asleep though that she didn't notice him curling himself around her with his arm at her waist pulling her against him.

She smiled to herself at the bizarre fact that Sherlock Holmes was a cuddler.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

Sherlock's dreams were filled with images of Molly Hooper. It had been the same after their first time together and it seemed it was no different this time.

He'd had to leave the pub after they'd had sex that first time because his mind had been in overdrive trying to catalogue every feeling and sensation. The whole experience had been so much more than he had every realised it would be and now he knew what sex was like he had wanted more of it. Molly straddling him in his kitchen had caught him a little off balance at first but he had been more than happy to follow her lead. He was more certain than ever that he was making the right choice.

The next day waking up with her in his bed was an added bonus and one he intended to take full advantage of especially as he had woken up with his body already ready for sex again.

He took a moment to watch her as she slept. Her hair was tickling his shoulder where she lay facing him. Her hand was on his chest, laying over his heart, almost as though the beat of it had been comforting her in the night. He didn't feel any qualms about initiating things with her, he knew absolutely how she felt about him and the fact that they had had sex the night before gave him a certain confidence. It still felt a little strange and alien to him though; not something he'd done before.

He let his thumb slide over her cheek and his fingers brushed some strands of hair from off her face. She shifted slightly but didn't awaken.

Slowly his hand moved down, along the length of her neck and down over the slight swell of her breast until he reached the buttons on his shirt.

It had been quite a revelation seeing her wearing it. When Janine had worn his shirts it had just irritated him but Molly had looked ravishing. He'd be happy for her to spend the rest of her life wearing nothing more than his shirts though he smiled a little to himself at the fact that they might be a little cold for morgue work.

He used one hand to nimbly undo first one and then another button until he could push the material off one shoulder revealing her breast to him. His mouth watered at the sight and he eagerly moved down a little so he could lean over her and take it into his mouth.

He knew the moment she awakened and the moan that she let out as she let her hands slide into his hair sent shudders down his body causing his cock to pulse with blood making him harder still.

His right hand continued its journey down her body exploring every curve until it rested between her legs, his fingers toying with her trimmed curls.

He moved his mouth to her other breast and shifted his body over hers and he felt her widen her legs a little more as her hips rocked up to meet his hand and he was happy to not keep her waiting. He used his fingers to part her and he quickly found her cliterous playing with different ways of stimulating her, listening for her reactions, working out what she liked before he let two fingers move down and slide into her warm, wet entrance.

He ignored the way his body was reacting, wanting instead to concentrate on her needs first.

She tugged on his hair slightly but it was enough to indicate that she wanted him face to face with her and when he complied she brought her mouth to his and kissed him. He could tell from the way her internal muscles were fluttering around his fingers that she was close to her orgasm and he used his body to add extra pressure to his hand until he felt her break. He kissed her neck as she rode out her climax listening to every sound she made, loving how vocal she was...especially when she called out his name. How had he lived so long without this?

She pulled him back in for a kiss and as she did he felt her hand wrap around his erection and he couldn't help but buck his hips towards her relishing the friction and feeling his pre-cum coating her fingers and lubricating his actions. He was more than ready and when she brought him to her entrance he squeezed his eyes shut so he could concentrate on pressing in slowly, loving how tight she was and how utterly blissful it felt.

Her hands were on his backside urging him into motion and he could feel the scrape of her nails on his skin. Her mouth was at his neck, her tongue leaving wet trails on his throat before sucking at the skin no doubt marking him. He should have wanted to stop her but he didn't. It felt primal and territorial but god it was erotic and sexy and causing all kinds of sensations in his mind and body.

He tried to take his time as he withdrew and slid back into her but she was overwhelming his controls. He wanted to fuck her, to make love to her, to empty himself inside her again and again and again. No wonder people in new relationships never left the bedroom and seemed to want to spend all their time together. He got it now.

His speed and his thrusts were increasing and he could sense she was building to another climax and he wanted her to fall with him. His muscles were aching but he didn't want to stop, he never wanted to stop but he knew it wouldn't be long now. His cock was painfully hard and he could feel his balls starting to rise up and he knew he was going to come.

Just as he thought he couldn't hold on any more he felt it; she tightened around him, her body arching into him as she let out a cry and came. It triggered his own release feeling like a lightning bolt searing across his brain, wiping coherent thought clean away and leaving him breathless and boneless on top of her.

She wrapped her arms and legs around him and he could honestly say that he had never felt more at peace.

But that peace was quickly shattered by the shrill ring of his phone. He was tempted to leave it but that ring tone indicated to him that it was Lestrade calling and that could only mean one thing; a case.

**Dun, dun, duuunnn. Could it be that another Santa has died? Anyway, I hope you've been enjoying the sex but do me a favour and let me know.**

**And isn't it a shame that the case is going to prevent Sherlock and Molly from actually having a proper conversation…just sayin'…**


	8. Chapter 8

**Hey guys, Merry Christmas! I've bought all my presents (smug face) and even wrapped most of them. What I haven't done though is finish this Fic...which I absolutely must do before we hit the end :) (it will be done I promise...I know what needs to happen it's just a case of writing it). I may have distracted myself writing an AmnesiaLock fic. **

**Anyway, enough of me, on with the story...**

**Chapter 8**

Sherlock put the phone down and stood, already starting to change. Molly had to look away so as to not get distracted by the sight of him fully naked. They may have had sex but that didn't mean they were comfortable around each other entirely.

'That was Lestrade, there's been another murder.'

She sat up in the bed holding the covers to her chest; her bravery of the night before leaving her in the cold light of day.

'Another?' she felt a little confused, unsure as to which case he was referring to.

'Santa Claus murder. Less than 100 yards away from the original murder.' He pulled on his trousers and did up the fastenings. 'It has to be connected to the previous killing…it has to…but that means I missed something.'

He glanced at the clock on the side as he made his way to the wardrobe to pull out a new shirt. 'Will you do the autopsy? I know you weren't due to be in this morning but you're the best.'

She couldn't help but smile and duck her head; she knew she was blushing.

'Yes, of course. That's fine.'

He picked up his jacket and started to leave before hesitating. 'Umm…'

She waved him away. 'It's OK, go. I can see myself out…just text me to let me know how bad it is out there.'

He nodded his head. 'Will do.' Then he was gone.

She heard him moving about in the bathroom and then the kitchen for a few more minutes and it was only when she heard the front door slam shut that she fully exhaled and flopped back onto the bed.

Part of her was elated with how things had progressed between them but there was still a whole heap of concern. Sex and feelings were two different things as well she knew.

She pondered using the shower but in the end decided that it would be better to have one at Barts if she needed it. Chances were she was going to have to make it to the main road on foot which meant wet jeans again. That was only confirmed when she received Sherlock's text advising her to try to follow the path he'd carved out through the snow.

She gave a huff of frustration and threw back the covers. No chance of being snowed in with Sherlock today so she might as well get moving.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

By the time she made it into Barts the body was on its way and so were Sherlock and Lestrade. As they entered the morgue they were obviously in the middle of an argument and when Donovan followed them in Molly went to join her.

'What's up with those two?'

Sally smiled and raised her eyebrows. 'Oh you're gonna love this. Freak…sorry, Sherlock reckons the murderer is targeting the department store.'

Molly looked over at where he stood gesticulating at Greg who was stood shaking his head with his arms folded over his chest. 'OK, and?'

Sally chuckled. 'And he wants to set up an undercover op…says someone needs to act as a decoy Santa in the department store.'

Molly met Sally's eye and suddenly found herself giggling as she turned to listen in more closely to the conversation.

It was Greg who was currently talking. 'Well if you're so sure about this plan why can't you be Santa?'

Sherlock threw up his hands in exasperation. 'Because, as you frequently remind me, I'm not an official member of Scotland Yard, I'm lousy with kids and I look nothing like Santa.'

'What and I do?'

Sherlock just rolled his eyes as Greg turned towards Molly and Sally.

'Come on. Help me out here.'

Sally laughed. 'Sorry I'm with the freak on this one. He can't do it; the Super would have a fit and you know it.'

Greg looked imploringly at Molly.

'Sorry Greg. If it helps I think you'd make a cute Santa.'

He seemed to deflate. 'Fine, fine but if I'm bloody well playing Santa Claus you and Anderson are being elves.'

He stabbed his finger towards Sally who snorted with laughter and scoffed. 'Yeah, no chance.'

The back doors to the morgue opened and two guys wheeled in a gurney covered in a white cloth and Sherlock and Greg made their way over. Molly was about to join them when Sally reached out and caught her arm. She turned slightly so her back was towards the men and she was effectively shielding Molly.

'So? Did you follow my advice?'

Molly tried to dissemble but Sally had caught her off guard and she obviously picked up on Molly's expression before she could school it.

'Oh my God you did didn't you? And I take it it worked?'

Molly shushed her but nodded her head. 'I'll tell you about it another time.'

She slid past the DC and made her way over to Sherlock and Greg and she couldn't help but notice Sherlock's suspicious glance as she did.

As she passed him he ducked his head towards her, whispering. 'I see you have a new friend Molly.'

He arched his eyebrow as he clasped his hands behind his back and she knew he had guessed who she had been talking to about their sex life. She hoped he wouldn't mind but had no chance of explaining herself with Greg stood there and so she just gave him a tight smile and made her way to the body. It was time to get to work.

MHMHMHMHMHMH

The others made their way back to Scotland Yard after Sherlock had taken the samples he wanted and left Molly with a list of instructions as to what he needed her to look at in detail as well as the tests he wanted carried out. She wondered whether she would hear from him again that day but there was nothing by the time she'd finished and so she made her way home. She contemplated texting him but felt that a face to face conversation would be better about what the previous night had meant, if anything, to him.

The next day she awoke to a request.

**Molly, if convenient meet me floor 5 of Branbridge department store – 9am. SH**

Well that didn't sound like a date!

She could only assume that the undercover operation was taking place and she had to admit that she was desperately curious to see if Greg really was going to be dressed as Santa. Even just the thought of it had her giggling as she made her morning cuppa.

Two hours later and her curiosity had been more than satisfied. Greg was indeed playing Santa and looked both hilarious and surprisingly authentic with the full outfit and stick on beard. The icing on the cake was Anderson though who had been forced into an elf costume and hadn't stopped grumbling about it from the moment she'd arrived until the queue started to form, filled with over excited toddlers and already weary parents.

Her job, along with Donovan and Sherlock, was to mingle on the floor and keep an eye out for anyone suspicious, anyone avoiding the floor cameras, anyone too interested in the grotto particularly if they didn't have any child with them. Molly wasn't quite sure why she had been roped into this but the fact that Sherlock had chosen her gave her a hopeful feeling that even the boredom of the job couldn't dissipate.

She was on her second stint (following a tea break) and it was late morning before her wanderings around the toy aisles were interrupted.

'Hey, sorry, I know you don't I? You were here the other day when the grotto was cancelled.'

Molly looked around to find the same middle-aged guy, who'd quizzed her about the closure on the day of the original murder, stood in front of her.

'Hi, yes I was.'

He smiled and gestured towards the queue. 'Looks like it's all up and running again. I'll have to come back at the weekend with my son. He was so disappointed the other day.'

Molly frowned. 'Oh I'm sorry to hear that…I'm afraid it couldn't be helped.'

There was a slightly awkward pause before he spoke again.

'So, do you work here then?'

She shook her head but leant in conspiratorially and gave him the cover story. 'I work for a PR company that covers this store and I'm just here to make sure the re-opening all goes smoothly.'

His eyes widened. 'Ah, I did see in the papers that there had been an accidental death here. I suppose it's not great for a department store like this. Keeps you in a job though.'

Molly smiled and nodded. She was about to excuse herself when he tentatively put his hand on her arm.

'Umm…sorry, but err…are you single? I…umm wondered if you'd like to go for a drink or a meal or something…Sorry, I'm not very good at this but you seem nice. I'm Peter by the way.'

Molly knew she was blushing. She hadn't expected him to try to pick her up and she was just trying to formulate a way to let him down gently when Sherlock suddenly joined them.

He smiled widely. 'Hi. Did I hear you asking our Molly out?'

Peter nodded.

To Molly's utter horror Sherlock continued.

'In that case it's a yes. Molly has been single for far too long haven't you.' He glanced at her quickly, still smiling, before continuing.

'It's about time she had a date and let her hair down. Here let me give you her number.'

He held out his hand for Peter's phone and after glancing quizzically at Molly who smiled weakly he handed it over.

Sherlock bent his head over the phone tapping away on the screen. 'Mind you don't leave it too long though, not many days left until we all break for Christmas and with dates my mantra is always to strike whilst the iron is hot. There you go.'

Just as he handed the phone back Sherlock was called away by Anderson and Molly struggled to keep up any semblance of pretence.

'Hey, thanks. Well…I'll text you. Bye.'

As Peter walked away Molly took a deep breath and looked over at where Sherlock was deep in conversation with Philip and one of the store security. She couldn't believe what had just happened and she was damned if she was going to hang around and listen to Sherlock explaining why he'd tried to fob her off onto some other guy.

She circled around the room to avoid him, retrieved her bag and coat and left.

As she made her way out of the tube station closest to her home her phone pinged with an incoming text.

**Molly, not sure where you are. We need to talk. Call me. SH**

She shoved the phone back into her bag and trudged her way through the snow until she was back in the safety of her own home and she threw her stuff onto a chair before sinking down onto the settee with her head in her hands. Had he really just done that? She had been so shocked and hurt that she hadn't even been able to turn Peter down and now she was likely to get unwanted texts from some random that she had no interest in seeing.

She just felt exhausted by it all and in the end she curled up on the settee covered herself with a fleecy throw and she fell asleep.

She awoke to her phone buzzing with an incoming call…Sherlock.

She watched the screen until it diverted to answerphone and she picked it up only to find four messages all asking her where she was and to contact him.

As she held it it vibrated again with an incoming text.

**I'm coming over. SH**

She jumped in shock feeling a sick feeling in her stomach. There was no way that she wanted to see him…not tonight. But where could she go?

It was then that she remembered her and Sally realising that they didn't live that far away from each other. It was the work of a moment to send off a text and whilst she waited for a response she grabbed a couple of items from her bedroom and then pulled her boots and coat back on.

A text in the affirmative came through as Molly took the back stairs out of her block of flats. She had no idea when Sherlock was due to arrive but she most certainly did not want to bump into him.

As she circled round to the front of the building she suddenly saw him paying off a cab driver before making his way to the front doors and she ducked back behind the wall and waited. She only made her way down the road when she knew he'd entered the building. She just needed not to see him tonight.

**So what do we think? Is Sherlock being an arse? Or has Molly been an idiot? And who do we think Peter is? Lots of questions...all to be answered very soon xx**


	9. Chapter 9

**Good news, I've had a concerted bout of writing over the weekend and I've now finished writing the last part of this fic. The bad news is there seem to be a lot of chapters to post between now and New Year. I may not manage to get them all up in time. **

**Anyway, it seems you are all of one mind that Molly has run too soon and that Sherlock should have explained himself better so shall we give them a chance to catch up and talk...**

**Chapter 9**

By the time Sally opened her door Molly was shaking but it wasn't with cold it was with the emotions of this whole sorry situation; they were overwhelming her.

'Hey, come in. What the hell has he done now? You look rung out.'

Molly walked into Sally's flat and felt herself starting to exhale for the first time in hours. Her home seemed to be filled with colour which surprised Molly. At work Sally was always in blacks and greys with immaculate white shirts but here was just a riot of colour; reds and blues and greens. It felt warm and cosy and comfortable.

Sally directed her over to a large squashy settee covered in cushions and throws and sat her down.

'Let me get you a drink. Red, yeah?'

Molly knew she was referring to wine and she nodded her head grateful, shrugging out of her coat and cardigan.

'Here you go now tell me everything. I thought it was all progressing just fine after what you'd said the other day.'

'It was...at least I thought it was. I went round to his flat and did like you suggested and it worked. We had sex and God...it was amazing.'

She glanced at Sally who was grimacing a little and she couldn't help but laugh a little. 'Alright, I know you don't like him but I do. I wish I didn't sometimes but I do.'

She heard the sadness in her own voice and she saw Sally nodding along.

'Yeah, why do we always fall for the bad ones; the married ones...me; the emotionally unavailable...you. We're suckers for it. Anyway, go on, so you guys did the deed...then what?'

'Then all this stuff kicked off about the case again...and that was alright. I know his work is important and I don't want to change that about him. Anyway, we were in the department store when Greg was...'

She couldn't help but smirk and when she caught Sally's eye the two of them burst out laughing.

It was Sally who spoke first. 'It was priceless, him and Philip...made my year it did...and I got photos!'

Molly was so glad that she'd come here and that she'd found a new friend. Even though she was feeling so down and vulnerable Sally was cheering her up no end and making her laugh.

'I was walking the floor when this guy that I vaguely knew came over to chat to me. He's alright, nothing special, but he asked me out. I was about to say no when Sherlock suddenly appeared and took over. Basically accepted the date on my behalf, gave this guy my number and told him I'd been single for too long and it's about time I hooked up with someone.'

She broke off and took a shaky breath before taking a gulp of wine. The pain of it all hitting her once more; she knew she was struggling not to cry.

'Wow, that's harsh...even for him.'

Molly nodded. 'He obviously just saw me as a problem to get rid of. Figured the easiest way would be to palm me off onto some other guy.'

'What a bastard!'

For once Molly didn't defend Sherlock...she couldn't. It was what she had been thinking herself. She knew he could be cold and cruel but this...

'There must be more to it. Why did you need to come round here? I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm enjoying having you here but...?'

'He kept texting me asking where I'd gone. I couldn't stay in the department store so I just took off. His last text said he was on his way to my place and I just couldn't face him...not yet. It was then that I remembered how close you lived so...'

'You did the right thing. Just turn your phone off and we can forget about him for tonight. You can kip over...only got the settee but it is pretty comfy. We've got wine, snacks and we can download some crappy film if you want.'

Molly took a deep breath and smiled. 'That sounds perfect. Thank you.'

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

The rest of the evening passed off fine but Molly's mind still turned to Sherlock as she lay in the dark huddled up on Sally's sofa under a multi-coloured duvet. She tried not to cry over men nowadays but she couldn't help the tears that tracked down her cheeks when she thought of him. She hadn't realised how much hope she had been building about her and Sherlock possibly embarking on a relationship until it had been pulled away.

She closed her eyes and pulled the cover up over her ears. She just needed to get through a couple more days of work and then she'd be off for Christmas. At that thought a fresh wave of sorrow flooded over her as she realised she'd have to cancel her plans to go to Sherlock's parent's house; there was no way she could spend Christmas with him and them now.

The next morning she awoke still feeling low. She made her way back to her own flat and then she changed and made her way into work.

Mike greeted her. 'Hey Molly, have you caught up with Sherlock yet? He was in here yesterday looking for you.'

She shook her head. 'No, but I'm sure it was nothing important.'

He looked at her quizzically. 'You sure? It seemed important. Anyway, if it was I'm sure he'll be back in today...I heard something about another of those Santa murder victims being brought in in the night. Where there's a body there's a Sherlock Holmes eh.'

Molly nodded her head and pursed her lips as she picked up her case files for the day. If there had been another murder then she had NO doubt that Sherlock would track her down today and she knew she'd have to face him and listen to him trying to let her down gently...or maybe not so gently given what had happened over the last 24 hours. She still didn't want to see him but she knew she couldn't put it off forever. Maybe it would be better in work...she'd get less emotional that way.

It was just after 11:30 when he pushed his way into the lab and his face initially lit up when he saw her but it soon morphed into what looked like anger.

'Molly, thank God, what the hell is going on? Why have you been avoiding me?'

He pulled his gloves and scarf off and shoved them into his pockets as he strode towards her.

She still couldn't help the way her traitorous heart flipped over at the sight of him, nor the way her brain naughtily admitted how hot he looked when he was angry.

She took a deep breath and stood up, wanting to try to feel equal with him rather than having to look up at him from a lower position. It didn't help that much.

'I'm sure with a brain as large as yours you can figure out why I might have been a bit peeved with you.'

He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. 'Why you're...you're angry with me?'

He sounded shocked, incredulous even.

'Yes, I'm angry. I know you probably aren't interested in pursuing anything romantic with me Sherlock but to try and fob me off onto some other guy was low even for you.'

His mouth fell open. 'I haven't tried to fob you off...'

'The guy...yesterday...in the department store. You even gave him my number.'

Sherlock's face stilled in recognition and he took a deep breath as he turned and paced a step or two away from her before he turned back.

'So, that's what kind of man you take me for...I didn't give him YOUR number Molly I gave him MINE. He's a suspect in this case that's why I spoke to him. Didn't it occur to you that his interest was a little odd and very timely given the two times you've met him?'

Molly's heart skipped a beat and she felt a bit sick. 'Oh...'

'I've been texting him as you for the last 24 hours and I've fixed up for you to meet him for a "date" this evening...' he exaggerated the word date and used his fingers to make speech marks. 'Will you do it?'

'I..err...yes, yes of course. What do you need me to do?'

'Just come to Baker St about 7pm so we can sort out a wire. Wear something appropriate.'

He turned away and she took a step forward. 'Sherlock...I...I'm sorry...can we just...'

'I need to get to Scotland Yard, there's been another victim and I actually had better things to do than chase you down over the last 24 hours. I'll see you later.'

With that he left the room and left Molly feeling worse than she had before.

The hours seemed to pass interminably slowly but as they did Molly's mood shifted. Instead of feeling guilty for doubting Sherlock as she had been she was beginning to feel angry with him for leaving her feeling so uncertain.

Granted she hadn't given him much of a chance to explain but she had no idea how he felt about her and whether what had been happening between them had any emotional meaning for him. No wonder she had jumped to all the worst conclusions. She determined to get to the bottom of it when she saw him later.

That was easier said than done though because when she arrived at Baker St he wasn't alone. Instead Lestrade, Sally and Anderson were there. Sally gave her a supportive smile and a wink but it was Lestrade who spoke.

'Right Molly, I don't want you taking any chances this evening. Sherlock may have set this all up but you don't have to do it if you don't want to.'

Molly saw Sherlock roll his eyes and sigh in exasperation and it made her smile. 'No, it's OK. I'm happy to help. Sherlock said something about a wire...?'

Greg nodded and looked at Sally.

'Yes, Sally can fit it for you.'

Molly looked directly at Sherlock and widened her eyes tilting her head towards his bedroom and hoping he'd pick up on her signals. She really wanted to talk to him away from the others.

He quickly caught on and stood up reaching to pluck the small device from Sally's hand. 'It's OK, I can fit it. We can use my room. Molly...'

Lestrade frowned. 'Hang on that really ought to be done by a female officer.'

Sherlock turned around for a second so he was walking backwards towards his room. 'That's OK Greg Molly's fine with me seeing her breasts. Aren't you Molly?'

He smirked and winked and Molly shook her head wondering exactly what Lestrade would make of that comment.

When he closed the bedroom door behind her she turned to face him.

'So, what do you need to do?'

Sherlock's face was unreadable as he asked her to remove her top but the atmosphere between them still seemed tense even after his humour of a few moments ago. She had wanted to ask him how he felt about her but she knew they didn't have enough time for that kind of conversation plus now they were alone he felt closed off from her; cold and distant and she was scared that she wouldn't like whatever answer he gave her.

She wished she'd just let Sally fit the wire but it seemed churlish to change her mind now and so she gripped the bottom of her sparkly evening top and she pulled it off over her head. It left her standing there wearing skinny, black jeans paired with boots and with nothing but a black, lacy bra on her top half.

Sherlock bent down a little and set about fixing the small microphone to the cup of her bra and as he did she had to clench her fists to stop herself from threading her hands through his hair.

It didn't take long for him to attach the device but rather than pull away he seemed to pause and slowly he ran a single finger along the edge of the lace on her bra. He traced it down to the valley between her breasts and then back up the other side. As he did Molly felt her whole body responding to him. There were no words, no sounds other than that of their breathing. It felt as if the whole world was on pause for a moment.

Slowly he lifted his head and his eyes met hers and all his defences from just a few moments earlier were gone and she saw the Sherlock that she'd had sex with in this very room just a couple of days ago.

'God Molly, what have you done to me?'

He moved towards her and she knew he was going to kiss her but before he could there was a tap on the door.

'Hey, is everything OK? Do you want to do a sound check?'

She saw Sherlock tense up at Lestrade's questioning and he quickly took a step back before adjusting something on the small mic. 'Yes, set it up.'

When he turned back to Molly she could see that his eyes were dilated and he had a flush of colour across his cheekbones and she knew she was probably looking just as aroused.

His voice was low and seemed to ripple through her as he spoke to her. 'Say something...for the sound check.'

She had to clear her throat before she could manage to speak but it must have all gone OK because he told her she could redress before he pushed his way out of his room leaving her alone once more.

**So, some friction and some sexual tension...which should we resolve first? And Molly is going undercover and playing pretend on a date...do we think our Consulting detective might struggle with some feelings of jealousy? Let me know what you think.**


	10. Chapter 10

**So, the good news is that I've finished work and I'm in full on Christmas cheer mode. I think that calls for a bit of good times for our not always so happy couple...what do you think?**

**Thank you so much for all your reviews so far. I'm sorry I've been getting behind in replying to them, life has been madly busy this week, but I do read and appreciate every single one xxx**

**Chapter 10**

As they finalised their plan in Baker St Sherlock ran through the kind of information he wanted her to get from Peter if she could. It was mainly background information, seeing if she could find any trigger areas that might help link him to the crimes, maybe even what he'd been doing on the evenings of the previous week.

'I'll be in the kitchens in Angelos listening in as will Lestrade and Donovan and if I think that you're unsafe at any point I'll step in. OK?'

He put his hands on her upper arms as he said this and looked into her eyes and she could see his sincerity. She knew he would never put her in harm's way...the phone call that Eurus had inflicted upon them both had at least secured that fact in Molly's mind.

Lestrade stood by the door. 'Are we right then? OK, let's go...we've got a cab waiting outside for you Molly.'

The road outside had been cleared of snow in the last 24 hours and Molly wondered if that was a normal council move or if Sherlock had pulled some strings with his brother. She knew from her travels around the city that his was the only side road they'd apparently touched.

They made their way out and Molly wished she'd had more time with Sherlock. They hadn't even discussed what she would do after the meal...Lestrade had just indicated that she could go home but Sherlock hadn't said whether he'd join her or not.

As she sat in the cab though it was nerves over this "date" that started to take over her thoughts. She hoped that if they showed it would just seem like normal first date nerves.

A few minutes later and she made her way into the small, cosy, Italian restaurant. She saw Peter and he stood lifting his hand in greeting. He'd managed to secure a quiet table near the back...or was that Sherlock's doing?

She gave her coat to the waiting staff and made her way over. He greeted her with a slightly awkward kiss on the cheek before pulling out her chair so she could sit down.

'Hi, I'm so glad you could make it. The weather has been hideous recently hasn't it...people getting snowed in all over the place...even in London, who would have thought it.'

They spent a few moments more discussing the weather and all the disruption it was causing and then they settled down to look at the menu before ordering. Peter also ordered them a bottle of red wine (a cheaper one) and Molly took a large gulp of it hoping it would calm her nerves a little.

'So Peter, tell me about yourself. You said you have a son?'

His eyes lit up and Molly felt that the emotion she could see on his face was genuine.

'Yes, he's only five...my only child. I've only recently split up from his mother...I mean don't get me wrong there's no love there anymore but I miss my son so much.'

Molly felt like this was a good line of questioning so she probed a bit further asking about the break up.

'It was a mutual decision for you both then...to split I mean.'

'Not really, to be honest it came out of the blue for me. Turns out she was having an affair with a guy near to where she works. They kept bumping into each other in a local cafe.' He seemed to be spitting his words out and Molly could sense the animosity and bitterness.

He carried on. 'Would you believe she's already moved him in to my house...already introduced him to our son...'

'That must be hard.'

He huffed. 'Hard doesn't even begin to cover it. Like I say losing my wife meant nothing but having this guy playing pretend dad to my son...bastard is even planning on playing Santa for him on Christmas Eve...that's my job...not his...'

She saw his hands fisting on the table and she started to feel like this conversation wasn't healthy anymore and so she changed the subject hoping that Sherlock wouldn't be too frustrated with her.

They moved onto his job which seemed safer. Thankfully like many men he was more than happy to do most of the talking. He asked bits and pieces about herself but he didn't ask any in depth questions and so Molly was able to get away with continuing her flimsy cover story about working in PR.

When they were offered dessert Molly declined. She'd had about as much as she could take of this date. Peter was endlessly boring and self-centred and she'd already reached the conclusion that she didn't blame the wife for having an affair. Instead they finished off the bottle of wine and when the bill came Molly insisted on paying for her share. Peter argued against it and in the end she paid for her meal but allowed him to pay for the wine.

As they made their way outside she started to wonder how she could get away without having to suffer a kiss but it quickly became apparent that he was hoping for more.

'So, I've really enjoyed tonight. Shall we carry it on at yours then? I'd invite you to mine but I'm in a shared house at the moment...I'm looking for a flat of my own of course but just whilst the divorce is going through money is a bit limited.' He laughed awkwardly.

Molly gave him a tight smile. 'Listen I've had a lovely time but I think it would be a bit soon for you to come back to mine. Maybe we can meet up again after Christmas?'

His face fell and she caught him rolling his eyes. 'I suppose, though I think you're being an awful spoil sport. We could have so much fun tonight...are you sure I can't persuade you?'

He caught her arms and before she could stop him he pressed a kiss on her. It wasn't one of Molly's most memorable kisses. All those had been given to her by Sherlock in the last week. Hell, even Sherlock's cheek kisses were better than this.

She counted to five in her head and then as politely as she could she pushed him away hoping beyond hope that a cab would stop quickly for her. Thankfully one did and she quickly said her goodbyes with a promise to text him soon.

As the cab pulled away she couldn't help but let out a grimace and a shudder and it had the cabbie laughing.

'Not a good night then miss.'

'Ugh no, first and last date.'

'Aw well, have yourself a nice glass of wine when you get 'ome and put it out of your mind.'

When she got to her flat she kicked her boots off and shrugged out of her coat before making her way to her bedroom. She just wanted to get in her pyjamas and scrub her face to get the feel of Peter off her lips.

As she stripped off she tentatively removed the wire and wondered what she ought to do with it. She wasn't sure if it was still working and she certainly didn't want anyone listening in as she slept so she wrapped a thin dressing gown around herself and carried the device through to the front room so she could put it in her handbag.

She'd just finished when there was a knock on her door which made her jump. She glanced at the clock to see it was just before midnight and her heart skipped a beat. Could Sherlock have followed her home? She hurried over to answer it.

Molly might have had an idea that it was Sherlock at the door but she was completely unprepared for the energy radiating off him as he entered her home. He seemed wired, buzzed. If she didn't know him better she'd probably be concerned that he was high.

'Hey, I wasn't expecting you. Is everything OK?'

He seemed to need to prowl around her front room, his hand picking up items and putting them down in a restless fashion.

'OK? Hmm…'

'Was the date alright? Did you get what you needed?'

'Yes, it was good…you did well. Lestrade is taking the recordings of your conversation back to Scotland Yard. I said I'd meet him there in twenty minutes.'

'OK, so why are you here?'

He almost seemed to be looking for something but she wasn't sure what.

'I…umm…I need to pick up the wire you were wearing.'

She wasn't sure how or why she knew but he was lying.

She stepped forward so she was blocking him and he looked down at her angrily.

'No, you're not. Why are you really here?'

He huffed and seemed to make a decision.

'You know you really didn't need to kiss him. It was supposed to just be a fake date.'

She wasn't sure what she was expecting from him but it wasn't this and it made her react angrily and honestly. 'I didn't. For your information he kissed me and what a shit kiss it was too.' She sighed. 'Why is it always the guys you don't want that make a move and not the guys you do.'

She blushed as she realised that she'd said that to Sherlock.

He cocked his head to one side. 'So, you don't mind a guy making "a move" on you so long as he's the right guy?'

She looked up at him and was caught by his expression. He seemed closer all of a sudden and she could see desire and need written all over his face; it seemed to reignite all of her feelings from earlier. She tried to speak but in the end all she could do was nod her head.

'And am I the right guy?' his voice was lower and quieter than it had been and it seemed to seep down into her very soul. Once again she nodded.

Molly didn't even seem to see him move. One moment they were apart and the next they were kissing.

She couldn't help but moan as his hands covered her back and his tongue slid into her mouth but she also knew that they needed to talk; they couldn't keep putting it off.

When they broke for air his mouth moved to her jaw kissing along it and down to her throat.

She closed her eyes and moved her hands to his hair to pull him away a little.

'We need to talk.'

'No, we don't. We can talk as much as you want at my parents. I have 10 minutes. Do you want a chat over a nice cup of tea or do you want me to fuck you?'

Molly groaned at him saying something so vulgar, something she'd long fantasised about hearing from him and all the while he was still holding her and kissing his way down her throat. She knew that this couldn't go on forever but god help her she wasn't strong enough to say no.

'Dammit, I...I want you to fuck me.'

Within seconds he had her sat on the kitchen work top with her legs wrapped around his waist. He undid the belt of her dressing gown and pushed it off her shoulders leaving her naked and yet he was still fully dressed and Molly couldn't find it within herself to care. If anything the disparity between them just aroused her even more and she found herself eagerly reaching for the fastenings of his trousers.

As she reached in to free him her hand wrapped around his erection and she felt him pulse in response, his growl of desire absorbed into her skin where his lips met her neck. Everything just felt rushed and desperate and as he pushed into her she could feel herself already wanting to reach her climax.

His thrusts were ragged and needy as his hands pulled her ever closer and his obvious, craving, desperate need for her just enhanced her own arousal. If this was all she ever got from him maybe it would be enough.

'Molly, please, I need you to come...I need you...'

She cried out as his voice, his gorgeous, sexy voice triggered her climax and she clawed at his shirt covered back wishing he was naked against her.

A moment later and he joined her as he let out a loud shout as he held himself deep inside her. She could feel him pulsing and spilling himself and it set off aftershocks of pleasure which had her moaning against his neck. She wrapped her arms and legs around him wanting to hold onto him forever but she knew she couldn't.

As if to confirm it his phone rang. They were so closely entwined that Molly felt the vibrations of it against her breastbone from where it sat in his jacket pocket. Slowly, almost reluctantly he pulled away from her.

**Seems like they're still not talking but at least they're back together. Did you like the jealousy? And are we still suspicious of Peter? **

**I'll post again soon xxx**


	11. Chapter 11

**I'm so glad that you all enjoyed the smutty ending of the last chapter. Sorry to disappoint but the wire was switched off and so they haven't been overheard (I so should have thought of that though).**

**Posting today so I can hopefully get another chapter up on Christmas Eve. I'm enjoying my time off work so far, it's nice having a few days to relax and really get prepared for Christmas for once. I hope you're all getting a chance to wind down as well.**

**Chapter 11**

As he reached into his pocket to retrieve his phone they were still intimately linked.

'What?'

His voice was low and rough and Molly hoped that whoever was on the other end couldn't guess what he'd just been doing.

'I said I'd be there and I will. Give me 10 minutes.'

He hung up and replaced his phone and only then seemed to realise that he and Molly were still connected and she saw him smirk.

'I think I'd rather have a post-coital cigarette than a post-coital phone call...but God I needed that.'

He bent his head and quickly pressed his lips against Molly's before he finally started to extract himself from her embrace.

She retrieved her dressing gown and wrapped it around herself whilst he straightened his clothing and she bit her lip to stop herself from asking him to stay. She knew he couldn't.

'Where's the wire then? I should at least return with my excuse for being here.'

Molly moved to get it from her bag. 'So, what are you and Lestrade doing?'

'We need to go back over the recordings from this evening and follow any leads it gives us. We're close...I know we are. The case should be done in the next 48 hours so if I can't make the car tomorrow afternoon just go with John and I'll see you at my parents. Right I'd better go.'

He made to leave and Molly couldn't help herself. She caught his arm and pulled him back to her. She had to stand on her tiptoes and hold onto his lapels but as she kissed him he gave into it briefly before gently letting her go.

As he left she felt a weight of sorrow flood over her and she wasn't quite sure why. She made herself a cup of cocoa and made her way to bed so she could try to work out what her emotions were telling her.

Sex with Sherlock was simply amazing but was it enough? If all she ever was to him was a friend with benefits could she live with that?

She knew without a doubt that she wasn't strong enough yet to deny him. It was all so new and so good and she wanted to explore every part of him, to experience everything there was to experience but she also knew that eventually it would tear her apart.

She finished her drink and turned out her light and tried to think of Christmas and Rosie to cheer herself up but as she fell asleep it was with a heavy heart.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

The next day there was nothing in the news about any arrests and so Molly figured the case was still ongoing. The only time she heard from Sherlock was a text to let her know that a car would pick her and John up at 3.30 to go to his parents.

It was Christmas Eve and the morning had brought with it a new feeling of hope. The despair of the night before seemed washed away and all Molly could think was that she was going away for Christmas and she was spending it with Sherlock, the man she'd been in love with for years. She wondered what, if anything, he'd told his parents and whether she'd have any opportunity to spend some alone time with him but she figured she'd just have to play it by ear.

She had to admit though to feeling very nervous about meeting Sherlock's parents. John had mentioned in the past that they were lovely and yet it seemed so at odds with how Sherlock and Mycroft were...even with the shadow of Eurus hanging over them. She'd assumed she'd meet them with Sherlock rather than without him.

She spent most of the day packing and wrapping up her presents. As she wrapped Sherlock's gift she felt a frisson of excitement at how he might react to receiving it. It hadn't been an easy present to get at all...in fact it had taken her months but she hoped he'd like it.

By 3.25 she was all packed up and waiting in the lobby of her block of flats for the car to arrive. John had texted to say they were on their way so it wouldn't be long.

As she waited big, chunky flakes of snow started to fall, drifting down slowly before landing on the already snow covered streets and Molly hugged herself and smiled. She loved nothing better than a white Christmas...just so long as it wasn't so bad that Sherlock couldn't get to them later.

The car drew up and she picked up her bags and started to manoeuvre her way out through the door. John came to meet her kissing her on her cheek in greeting as he took a couple of the bags.

'Hey Molly, it's good to see you. It feels like it's been ages.'

She smiled as she followed him, trudging her way across the crunchy snow.

'I know. It's only been a couple of weeks but it's felt like longer.' She almost added that so much had happened but she didn't want to arouse his suspicions and have any sort of conversation about her and Sherlock's relationship.

'I bet Rosie has grown.'

John chuckled. 'I'm sure she won't have changed that much but she's turning into a proper chatterbox now. I've lost track of how many words she knows.'

Molly climbed into the back of the car as John and the driver loaded up the boot and she greeted her goddaughter, loving the way the little girl's face lit up as she saw her. She was looking more and more like Mary every day and Molly wished that Mary was here to see how beautiful and clever her daughter was.

The journey passed off OK with John and Molly chatting easily about what they'd been up to over the last couple of weeks. Molly brought him up to speed with the case and showed him some photos of Lestrade and Anderson in their respective roles as Santa and his elf. They had John roaring with laughter which had Rosie joining in even though she didn't know what the joke was.

'God Molly I wish I'd been there for that. Are they back there again today?'

Molly nodded. 'I think so. I haven't heard from Sherlock though so I'm not sure. Have you heard from him?'

She tried to gauge from his reaction whether Sherlock had disclosed anything about her but it was obvious that he hadn't. In all honesty if he had John would probably have raised it already.

'No, just the time of the car picking us up. He said he's aiming to be with us by tomorrow morning at the latest.'

As they got closer to the Holmes family home Molly's nerves flared up again. She just wanted them to like her and she hoped they weren't put out by having a total stranger turn up for Christmas.

John tried to put her concerns to rest but they persisted and just got worse as the car pulled up outside a large, picturesque cottage.

The driver was sorting out the bags so John and Molly were able to concentrate on extracting Rosie from her car seat and as they did the door opened and a stout, elderly woman came out followed by a taller man who was so obviously Sherlock's father from his build and looks.

'John, how lovely to see you again. Come in, come in all of you before you catch your death in all this snow.'

John, carrying Rosie, greeted Sherlock's parents warmly before turning to Molly.

'And this is Molly.'

Sherlock's mother took hold of her hands. 'Now my dear, let me look at you. Our Sherlock has never brought a girl home before so I want to enjoy this moment.'

Molly smiled nervously. 'I'm pleased to meet you Mrs Holmes but...umm...Sherlock and I, we're just friends. That's all.'

The older woman raised an eyebrow and then smiled before winking at her. 'Of course you are my dear. Now, call me Violet and this is Sherlock's father, Sigur.'

Sigur stepped forward and gave her a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek. 'As my wife has said it's very good to meet you. Now, shall we sort out your bags and get you all settled then we can crack open a bottle of wine and get into the festive spirit.

Violet offered to take the presents and put them under the tree whilst the others collected the overnight bags and followed Sigur up the stairs to the bedrooms.

'Now Molly, you're in this room on the left. The bathroom is right next door. Come down once you've freshened up.'

Molly thanked him and made her way into a reasonably sized room with a freshly made up double bed. She put her bag on the bed and made her way over to the window to look out at the view. Fields covered in snow rolled out as far as she could see with just the odd clump of trees here and there. The snow was quite a bit deeper here away from the roads and Molly wondered how often they got snowed in.

As she turned back she noticed a couple of small trophies on the desk to the side of the window and she bent to look at them. They all had Sherlock's name on them and were for various prizes in subjects at school. It made her look at the room more closely as she realised it must have been Sherlock's childhood bedroom. What did it mean that they'd put her in here? Were they assuming that her and Sherlock were sleeping together?

That thought had obviously occurred to John because as they met up downstairs he leant into her for a private word whilst Violet bustled about in the kitchen and Sigur poured them both a drink.

'Haha, looks as though Sherlock's parents are trying to play matchmaker for their son. I don't know if you've realised but they've put you in the room Sherlock normally sleeps in. Don't worry, I've texted him and told him he can bunk in with me so you won't get any late night surprises.'

He laughed at his own joke and Molly feebly joined in whilst feeling a little disappointed that she wouldn't get to share the room with Sherlock.

The wine, when it arrived, was very welcome and the food was delicious. Sherlock's parents were very welcoming and very keen to ask her all about herself. It made Molly feel a little guilty as she was sure they had read far more into her being invited than was actually the case. Yes she had slept with Sherlock but sex did not equal an actual romantic entanglement and she wasn't sure that was either something he wanted or was even capable of...no matter how much she wanted it herself.

Later on, as she snuggled up under Sherlock's duvet in his childhood room she wondered where he was and whether he was safe. She knew what he was like and she didn't want to change him in any way but she always wanted him to be safe. She found herself eager to see him again, butterflies erupting in her stomach as she thought of him, knowing she was sleeping in a room that he must have slept in a thousand times before. It was Christmas Eve...what was better she wondered? The anticipation of Christmas or the day itself...this year in particular, she had no idea.

**Come on, we all know Sherlock! Where is he likely to end up? Bunking in with John or enjoying snuggling up with Molly?**


	12. Chapter 12

**God rest you merry gentlemen, let nothing you dismay, it's Christmas, Christmas, Christmas, Christmas, Christmas, Christmas Day!**

**Yes I meant to get this posted yesterday and yes I'm not going to get the Christmas Day chapters all up in time but hey, it means you'll be able to keep celebrating Christmas through this fic for the next week ;)**

**Just a heads up that you will only get part of the solution to the case in this chapter so if it doesn't all make sense don't worry as Sherlock will give us a fuller account later on.**

**Chapter 12**

At the exact moment that Molly was lying in bed thinking of Sherlock he was in London being punched in the face. It wasn't his best Christmas Eve ever.

He'd spent the day flitting between Baker St and Scotland Yard as he and Lestrade tried to formally link Molly's date to the current murders.

Sherlock was convinced he was the killer but Greg was mostly just confused.

'But why is he doing this? It makes no sense.'

Sherlock had steepled his hands beneath his chin as he leant back in the uncomfortable visitors chair in Greg's office, he much preferred Greg's.

'Context Gavin. It hasn't been put into context yet but it will. These murders aren't relevant...they're just there to cover up the one that is.'

Greg huffed and rolled his eyes. 'But what does that even mean? I just need hard proof Sherlock...something I can take to the CPS and get a prosecution from.'

'Don't worry, you'll have your proof. We just need to catch him in the act of the final murder. Though I say final...once they have a taste there's always a reason to kill again. Anyway, don't you read your Agatha Christie? If you had you'd know what I'm talking about.'

Greg slapped his hands on his desk. 'God you're infuriating. No wonder John gets pissed off. What on earth has Agatha Christie got to do with anything?'

'It's as simple as ABC Graham. Now have we found out where the ex-wife's new boyfriend will be tonight?'

Lestrade obviously found this an easier line of investigation than trying to follow Sherlock's tortuous clue dropping. 'Yes, he's out with some friends for a few hours. They're doing some kind of themed pub crawl in town.'

Sherlock nodded his head...it was all just as he had expected it to be. As Lestrade prattled on with the details Sherlock let his mind drift to the previous evening. He had surprised himself with his need for Molly. It seemed that rather than ridding him of his sexual needs having sex seemed to just make him want more.

He glanced at his watch and calculated when he might make it to his parent's house. If everything went as planned the case would be over by midnight, his brother would be back in the country by one and they would be there just before three. Not ideal but if they weren't there in time for a Christmas Day breakfast there would be hell to pay from his mother.

His phone buzzed and he pulled it out from his inside jacket pocket.

**I think your parents think you and Molly are together, they've put her in your room. Just bunk in with me instead and decide how you're going to let them down. I suggest you do it gently. John**

Sherlock rolled his eyes and then smirked. He couldn't wait to see John's face when he realised he was wrong.

'What are you smirking about?'

'Just a text from John, that's all. He's going to get a shock tomorrow when he realises I'm in a relationship with Molly.'

Greg almost spat his tea across the table. 'You...you're in a...what kind of relationship are you talking about?'

Sherlock pushed away from the table and stood up. 'For God's sake does no one pay any attention. I told you yesterday she had no problem with me seeing her naked. I suppose I ought to admit that the reason I was delayed in getting here last night was because Molly and I were having sex. I never realised it would be so addictive.'

Lestrade gave a mirthless laugh. 'Yeah, funny that...who knew! Right, well come on then Casanova let's get this case resolved so you can go get your girl. For what it's worth I think Molly is perfect for you and it's about time.'

Five hours later and as Sherlock apprehended Peter just before he coshed his love rival over the head the smaller man took a swing at him catching him in the face. He felt the sharp, excruciating pain of the impact bloom over his cheekbone and eye socket but it didn't impede his response and with the quick addition of the police the arrest was soon made.

Lestrade had wanted him to stay longer and oversee the interviews but with the case solved his interest had moved on. He returned to Baker St on foot, trudging his way through the freshly laid snow whilst attempting to avoid the drunks making their own way home; trying to hail a cab after midnight on Christmas Eve was an impossibility even for him. The snow was still falling from earlier and he was a little concerned about whether he and his brother would actually make it to Berkshire but he also knew that the two of them could manage pretty much anything when they put their minds to it...there was a solution to most problems if you were bright enough to think of it.

He'd already been in touch with Mycroft and ten minutes after he'd arrived back home a 4x4 pulled up outside to collect him.

'Merry Christmas Mr Holmes. Mr Holmes's plane is due to land shortly so he'll be ready to go once we get there.'

Sherlock felt it would be churlish not to return the driver's festive wishes but he'd be glad when all this faux merriment was put to bed for another year. He settled into the back seat and let his mind wander as the car made it way to London City Airport where they were due to collect Mycroft.

As it always seemed to do at the moment his thoughts made their way to Molly's room in his mind palace.

It was, as ever, a tense journey with his brother made even more so by Mycroft's immediate deductions about his younger brother's change of status with his pathologist. It ended with a withering 'well, if you're sure...' from his older brother that just reeked of disapproval.

He had to admit that it unnerved him. Mycroft always seemed to manage to unnerve him. His feelings of disquiet only dissipated when he opened the door to his bedroom in his parent's house. The light from the landing seeped into the room and he could see Molly bathed in shadows fast asleep. Her face looked peaceful, all worry lines removed. She was simply beautiful and as he stripped off his clothes he felt as if he was coming home in more ways than one. He closed the door and slid under the covers and he seemed to let out a breath that he hadn't realised he was holding as Molly rolled over and enveloped him in a warm embrace.

He smiled to himself as he finally let sleep take him.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

When Molly awoke on Christmas morning she found she was no longer alone in the bed. Her head was lying on Sherlock's shoulder with his arm loosely slung about her waist and her hand was resting on his chest...his naked chest.

She took a deep breath and smiled, just enjoying the closeness and how perfectly natural it felt. She risked a quick glance up at his face but he looked fast asleep, his face softer and younger looking in repose. He'd been through so much lately and it had been showing, starting to age him, but not making him any less gorgeous to Molly.

He shifted slightly and she found herself wanting to explore him, to learn every curve and plane of his body. Whilst they'd had sex more than once none of it had been leisurely and she really wanted to know him better.

Her hand moved slowly down his body wondering if he was dressed in any way but she made it to his hip unimpeded and she already knew his legs were unclad. Even as her hand moved she felt his cock starting to twitch, blood flowing into it and making him harden. She wondered if he'd ever had oral sex...given his lack of experience in other areas she doubted it and she suddenly wanted to be his first with that too.

She moved so she was able to kiss his chest and slowly but surely she made her way down his body. It wasn't long before she felt him tense before he groaned and she knew he was awake but he did nothing to stop her.

As she came level with his erection she bent to one side and sucked the skin at the side of his hip into her mouth. She wanted to mark him properly...to make him hers even if it was a hidden, pointless symbol.

He groaned once more and his hands moved into her hair; his blunt nails scraping over her scalp making it tingle and sending bolts of lust down to her core.

She shifted again, getting herself in a comfortable position to take him into her mouth but before she could there was a sharp knock on the door, making her jump in shock.

It was Sherlock who responded as Molly quickly slithered back up the bed in case anyone came in.

'Go away.'

The answer came from his father. 'Much though I would love to son brunch will be in fifteen minutes. Don't be late or your mother will be cross and neither of us wants that now do we.'

Sherlock groaned again, but this time it wasn't a joyful or eager groan. 'Fine, we'll be there.'

He huffed as he brushed a hand over his face and Molly giggled. 'Oh well, looks like we'll have to postpone this til later.'

Sherlock turned his head and scowled. 'Easier said than done for me...shit, I'd better go and have a cold shower.'

He bent his head and pressed his lips against hers in a quick kiss before he threw back the covers. As he sat up, unembarrassed at being naked and sporting an impressive erection, Molly had to stop herself from kneeling up behind him and sliding her hands over his body...that would only tease both of them and they'd never make it downstairs. As a guest in their home Molly felt obliged to follow his parent's wishes even if it did impinge on her own.

As Sherlock took his shower she quickly got dressed and fifteen minutes later they were duly making their way downstairs to meet with the others and start to celebrate Christmas together. Molly could hear church carols being played in the kitchen along with Rosie's giggles and so that was where she headed.

John was sat with Rosie on his knee in a chair by a Welsh dresser and Violet was stood by an Aga cooking bacon and eggs and the atmosphere was so homely and so different from the past few Christmases that Molly had had. It made her want to hug herself and spin around happily.

John seemed surprised to see Sherlock. 'Oh, hey, you're here. Where did you sleep then? I expected you to share with me.'

Sherlock ignored the question at first instead turning and pinching a slice of bacon where it was warming in a plate. His mum moved to slap his hand but just missed making him smile.

'Well, we arrived late, it was hardly worth sleeping...'

Just then they were joined by Mycroft and the question was forgotten but Molly couldn't help but feel a little hurt at Sherlock obviously not wanted to admit to his best friend that he'd been sleeping with her in her room.

He did come and sit by her at the kitchen table though and every so often he would put his hand on her thigh, his fingers sliding across the material of her jeans. She didn't think anyone else noticed but Mycroft seemed to be watching the two of them quite closely so she couldn't be sure.

Breakfast passed off well and as they were clearing up Sherlock's mum started chivvying them about the local church service eliciting groans from her two sons.

The older woman pursed her lips. 'I don't know why the two of you complain like this every year. It's tradition, we go every year and this year is no exception so go get your coats.

She turned to Molly and her face relaxed into a lovely smile. 'Of course Molly it's up to you whether you'd like to join us. I wouldn't force anything on our guests. I think John is coming though.'

John nodded his head. 'Wouldn't miss it for the world.'

Molly wasn't a church goer but her parents used to take her to the Christmas services when she'd been little and she found herself more than happy to go along. Plus it sounded like they'd be walking and after the large breakfast a walk would do her good. She eagerly went to retrieve her coat...ready to face the snowy Christmas Day.

**Merry Christmas everyone, I'll try to post again before the end of the week with the rest of Sherlock and Molly's Christmas day. Are you glad he slept in her room? And are you angry he obfuscated in front of John? Maybe there was a reason for that but I'm not telling...not yet...**


	13. Chapter 13

**Sorry it's taken so long to get this next chapter up. There's been so much going on here at home and I visiting family. I'm hoping things will start to calm down but as I have a significant birthday in a couple of days I'm not sure it will.**

**Anyway, cast your mind back to Christmas Day because our faves are still celebrating it.**

**Chapter 13**

It took them about 20 minutes to make their way down a snow ladened lane to the village and the church. She found herself linking arms with Sherlock's father as they went and he seemed a genuinely nice guy. He was very honest about the fact that it was his wife and children who had the brains but she could see he was being modest. He might not be a genius but he was obviously very intelligent.

He asked her about her job. It was obvious he already knew quite a bit about her and she wondered whether that information had come from Sherlock or from John.

'Honestly my dear you have no idea how happy Violet and I are to finally meet you. Our sons are, how can I put it...too emotionally repressed. It suits Mycroft, he takes after his mother in that way but it was never normal or natural for our Sherlock but after everything that happened with Eurus. Well, I know you know how that turned out...anyway, here we are. Come and meet the vicar, it will be good for you to make his acquaintance.'

Molly felt a little confused at that last comment but happily went along with it and after the service Sigur and Violet introduced her not only to the vicar but to a few of their friends in the village. Each time it was with the moniker of her being Sherlock's very special friend and it was making her uncomfortable. Sherlock meanwhile was nowhere to be seen; hadn't been since the service. She strongly suspected he was off with his brother smoking.

They finally linked back up a little on the walk back to the cottage. The snow was falling lightly and when Sherlock came up beside her and offered her his arm she took it, happily smiling up at him.

'Hey, sorry to leave you with my parents. Hope it wasn't too hideous but you're good at all that socialising stuff. I never quite seem to get it right.'

'It was OK but I worry that they're reading far more into our friendship than is there. They were introducing me to the vicar as though he'd be reading the bans to our wedding.'

As she said that she blushed and couldn't even look at him. Before he could say anything though they were interrupted by John. Rosie wanted him and Sherlock to hold her hands and swing her as she kicked her way through the snow.

Molly released him and laughed as she watched it all take place; taking a few photos on her phone for posterity. Sherlock was so good with Rosie, in a way that she hadn't every really expected. It made her heart clench wondering if she would ever have a child of her own.

When they got back to the cottage Violet and Sigur went in to start to get everything ready for the main Christmas meal. They tended to have it mid afternoon apparently and then snack on left overs in the evening. Mycroft also went in saying he had some emails he needed to respond to but the rest of them stayed in the garden building Rosie a snowman and holding a couple of impromptu snow ball fights. It was turning out to be one of the best Christmases that she could remember.

By the time they made it back inside they were all covered in snow and shivering with cold, Violet sent them up to dry off and get changed.

'Food will be being served soon so don't be long.' She seemed to direct that last comment more at Molly and Sherlock and Molly blushed at the slight implication in her words.

It didn't seem to have registered with Sherlock though because as soon as they'd closed the door to their bedroom he had her pressed up against the door kissing her.

'Mmm...I swear I've been hard all day. That cold shower didn't work at all.'

Molly giggled at the peeved tone in his voice but she still pushed him away.

'Stop it, we haven't got time. Your mum wants us downstairs in a few minutes.'

Sherlock literally pouted and it was one of the cutest things she swore she had ever seen.

'Come on Molly, we can be quick. We were the other day.'

She laughed and shook her head. 'No, absolutely not. I want us to take our time next time not just have quickies...maybe I can help you out thought.'

She turned them around so it was Sherlock with his back to the door and she dropped to her knees. She heard his intake of breath and couldn't help looking up at him as her hands moved to the fastenings of his jeans. He was looking down at her with wide eyes, a flush of colour high in his cheeks.

'Molly, you don't have to...I don't expect...'

'I know, but I want to. I have ever since we were interrupted this morning...now lean back and just enjoy it.'

He helped her push his trousers and jersey shorts down and she wrapped her hand around his erection giggling again when it pulsed in response to her touch. She wanted to tease him but she knew they didn't have too much time and so she swirled her tongue around his glans and once again she glanced up at him before taking him into her mouth.

She saw his eyes almost close and his head fell back against the door as he let out an audible groan. The sound of it and the taste of him sent arousal flooding through her but this wasn't about her own satisfaction...this was about giving him some.

Gradually with each bob of her head she took him deeper and deeper until he was almost hitting the back of her throat and from the way he was reacting she knew it wouldn't take him long to come.

His hands had moved to her head, removing her pony tail and bunching handfuls of her hair as he tried to resist the urge to thrust into her mouth. She appreciated his restraint, enjoying being able to stay within her limits.

He started to mutter a repetitive 'oh god, oh god, oh god' and she used her left hand to cup his balls lightly squeezing and pulling on them until he quickly called her name in warning.

She ignored his plea and a moment later he was coming in her mouth and she swallowed him down eagerly. She managed most of it with just a small amount leaking down her chin: he hadn't tasted as bad as she'd been expecting.

As she pulled away from him he pulled up his trousers and slid down the door to join her.

'God, Molly that was...'

His lips quirked up into a smile and he reached forward and pulled her to him for a kiss.

She wanted more...more of him and more of this but she knew that any moment his mum would be calling them to dinner and so she reluctantly ended the kiss and started to stand.

'Come on, we need to get ready.'

He followed her lead and they began to change though her progress kept being impeded by Sherlock pulling her to him for more kisses.

'Mmm...you've just whetted my appetite Dr Hooper. I can't wait to taste you later.'

Molly giggled and pushed him away again. 'I can't wait either, hopefully I'll taste as good as you did.'

As she said that last bit she frowned to herself. He really hadn't tasted that bad and it was unusual. Swallowing wasn't something she often did with her previous partners as she'd never really liked the taste.

'Sherlock, what did you eat yesterday?'

He was tucking his shirt into his dress pants and he seemed to avoid her eye as he answered.

'Not much, I was on a case remember.'

'I know but what exactly did you have?'

This time she saw his mouth twitch before he answered. 'I may have bought a bag of fresh pineapple cubes to snack on.'

Her eyes widened and she swatted his arm. 'Oh my God you knew this would happen. You planned it.'

He rolled his eyes. 'No, I didn't plan it I just made a deduction based on where we were at in our sexual relations. If you have enough data it isn't that hard to work ahead...I don't know why people always think it's so strange. Anyway, I didn't get it exactly right...I thought it would be tonight not this afternoon. Now, are you ready?'

Molly wasn't sure whether to be impressed or freaked out but she followed him out of the room, nipping to the loo before joining the others downstairs.

This time they were in the main dining room and it looked amazing. It was already starting to get dark outside even though it was only mid afternoon and the room was lit by candles on the table and a couple of soft lamps in the corners. There were strands of holly and ivy twined together across the mantelpiece above a welcoming fire and the table was ladened with food which smelt delicious.

They gradually all took their seats with the only exception being Rosie. John had put her down for her afternoon nap so he could enjoy his meal hopefully without interruption. Molly was between him and Sherlock's father with Sherlock across from her. She loved the way the candle light highlighted his cheekbones and throat and she couldn't help but catch his eyes before licking her lips and saying 'mmm, delicious'. He raised an eye brow at her double meaning but it soon morphed into a grimace when his mother insisted they all pull their crackers and wear whatever hat they won.

Molly's was a cardboard pirate hat which she wore quite happily. John had a policeman's helmet and Sherlock a cowboy hat though it refused to stay on his curls giving him an excuse not to wear it. Mycroft's was the funniest as he'd got a princess crown and when he saw it his face was such a picture that even his mother laughed at his obvious displeasure.

All Sherlock said when he saw it was 'suits you perfectly big brother'.

As they tucked into the meal it was John who kick started the conversation.

'So, Sherlock, tell us about this case then. What am I going to be calling it on the blog?'

Sherlock huffed. 'Probably something ridiculous like The Santa Claus murders but that wasn't really what the murders were about. They were just a distraction.'

His father picked up his wine. 'How so?'

'The first murder was accidental. The killer, Peter Randall, was an ordinary middle aged man, cuckolded by his wife and losing the affections of his son to the new step-dad. I suspect that when he took his son to see Santa in the department store the man playing it picked up on the rivalry and stirred the pot. He was an alcoholic, probably still drunk and this guy was mediocre looking and an easy target.'

'Anyway, the insult ate away at him and he came back to the store at closing to confront the Santa. An argument no doubt ensued, Peter punched him and he fell back against a sharp table edge and it was that that killed him. An accident, as I deduced. Peter covered it up and managed to get out avoiding the cameras; a lot of which weren't working due to cut backs.'

'That should have been the end of it but Peter must have liked the rush..the feeling of power in his normally powerless life. It also got him thinking about his wife's new lover, Dave, the man stealing his son from him and he decided he wanted to get rid of him. And what better way to hide a murder that means something but in amongst a bunch of murders that don't. He decided to kill other Santas and then he was going to kill Dave when he was on a night out on Christmas Eve.'

'He already knew Dave was going on the pub crawl dressed as Santa because the new man had rubbed Peter's face in the fact that he could play Santa for his son when he put the Christmas presents in his room. He'd probably have got away with it as well if he hadn't been attracted to our Molly here. It was him asking her out in a date that drew him to my attention and the rest, as they say, is history.'

His mum leant forward. 'And was it that nasty man that gave you that bruise and cut on your face?'

Sherlock nodded. 'Just a glancing blow, nothing serious.'

She pursed her lips. 'Well as far as I'm concerned they can lock him up and throw away the key for hurting my boy. Now, who wants seconds?'

**There you go, a small dose of smut and an explanation for the murders. Believe me I really struggled to come up with a reason for someone wants to kiss random Santa clauses. I hope you got the tie in with the ABC Murders for those that read Agatha Christie as that was in part the inspiration...hiding a meaningful Murder in amongst random ones.**

**Anyway, Christmas isn't finished yet, there's still more fun to come and I'll try not to leave you waiting so long for it. Oh, and what did you think of Sherlock eating pineapples...thoughtful thinking or being an ass?**


	14. Chapter 14

**On reading this before posting this is probably the chapter that should have gone up in Christmas Day but as you know I kinda got a little behind with my posting plans and so you get to, hopefully, enjoy it now. We still have a couple more chapters to go and I hope you're still on board even though christmas is now well behind us.**

**Happy New Year!**

**Chapter 15**

They all mucked in to clear up the remains of the meal. Mycroft tried crying off citing some work but his mother narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips and he acquiesced without a word being exchanged. Molly chuckled to herself both at Mycroft being so cowed by his mother but also at how similar to each other they were.

After everything was cleared away and more drinks were poured Violet announced that it was time for presents. John went to get Rosie and they were soon all installed in the front room around a roaring fire. Molly was on the settee next to Violet and Mycroft. Sherlock's dad was on one of the armchairs and John and Sherlock were sat near the tree trying to stop Rosie from opening all the presents regardless of whether they were hers or not.

Her eagerness and excitement were infectious and Sherlock pulled forward a big box for Rosie and told her it was from himself and Molly. He glanced over at Molly and smiled and she remembered back to the moment they'd bought it in the department store.

It had been first thing in the morning on the day that Lestrade had first gone undercover as Santa, way before Molly and Sherlock had had their misunderstanding about Peter. Molly had been browsing in the Harry Potter aisles when Sherlock had appeared and grabbed hold of her hand.

'I've found the perfect present for Rosie...come on.'

He was buzzing and towing her along and Molly laughed at how elated he seemed to be.

'OK, slow down...what is it?'

He dragged her into the Playmobil aisle and stopped and Molly looked around in puzzlement.

'Aren't these a bit old for her?'

'Not at all. She's a bright girl and she'll enjoy playing with it.'

Molly frowned. 'Is she even interested in pirates?'

Sherlock hunched down and his fingers traced over the picture of the pirate ship on the front of the box. 'Come on Molly, what kid isn't into pirates? She'll love it. Anyway, I'm happy to help her make it and I'll play with it with her...you're always saying I should spend more time with her.'

He looked up and her and grinned and she suddenly realised that this was more about his childhood than Rosie's and she smiled back and nodded her head. 'Fine, we'll get it.'

Sherlock had taken it to the till and arranged for it to be gift wrapped and sent to his parents and now here they were watching John's little girl tear off the wrapping paper and clap her hands excitedly.

Molly's heart felt like it would burst when Rosie stood and wrapped her arms around Sherlock's neck as a thank you. She wondered if Sherlock had even ever thought about becoming a father himself but she quickly squashed those thoughts down. Sex with him was one thing but she couldn't let her own fantasies run amok...she'd only end up even more hurt than she was already going to be.

Other presents were handed out. Molly had bought John and jumper and Mycroft some whisky. Sherlock's parents had bought her a beautiful soft and warm Barbour scarf which was wide enough to wrap around her shoulders as a shawl.

Molly shyly pointed out her present to Sherlock, desperately hoping he'd like it but feeling nervous all over again.

'It's a bit unusual...took me ages to track it down and get it.' She looked at his parents and giggled nervously. 'You're going to think I'm a bit weird.'

Violet patted her hand. 'I won't ever think such a thing my dear. I'm sure whatever it is will suit my boy perfectly.'

Sherlock picked up the flat square shaped gift and his eyes flicked up to meet hers. 'What, no bow Molly?'

She rolled her eyes remembering back to that Christmas five years ago. 'No, definitely no bow.'

'Shame, I like bows.'

He slid his finger under the edge of the wrapper and tore off the cello-tape before removing the paper, then he held up the gift. The item was fully encased in plastic and clearly showed it was a thin slice of a human brain.

His eyes narrowed for a second and then his mouth fell open in shock as his gaze moved from the gift to Molly.

'Moriarty?'

Molly smiled and nodded. 'Yes. It took me ages to track down.'

Mycroft leant forward. 'You shouldn't have been able to track it down at all. His body has been classified. How on earth did you get hold of it?'

Molly turned to Sherlock's older brother. 'Well I'm not going to get anyone in trouble but let's just say that the Pathology community is a small one and I have my contacts.'

'This is perfect Molly, absolutely perfect.'

She thought for a moment that he might come and kiss her but he didn't and her heart sank just a little bit. He obviously still didn't want anyone to know about them.

'And what about your gift to Molly Sherlock?' His mother asked.

Molly turned to her and shook her head. 'No, it's OK. I already have it. He bought me the red coat I was wearing earlier.'

Now it was Violet's turn to frown. 'No, there's definitely another gift isn't there darling. It's been under the tree for a few weeks.'

Molly felt confused and looked at Sherlock.

He half smiled at her as he gently placed her present to him on one side and then he bent his head and searched under the tree. A moment later and he turned back to her holding a small gift.

He moved forward until he was in front of her and held it out.

'Merry Christmas, Molly Hooper.'

She took it from him and as she pulled off the paper she noticed that her hands were shaking slightly.

John had moved forwards a little to see what it was.

When she saw the small, black, velvet covered box her heart was beating so hard in her chest that she felt dizzy.

Sherlock took the box and opened it revealing a beautiful single stone diamond engagement ring.

'Molly Hooper, will you marry me?'

It felt as though all the air had left the room. Molly was acutely aware of all the reactions around her; Sherlock's dad smiling and nodding his head, Mycroft sighing, Violet clapping her hands together and John...poor John, he looked as though he'd swallowed a bee. He was the first to verbally react.

'Wait...what? You're proposing?'

Sherlock's eyes didn't deviate from hers as he answered.

'I am.'

'To Molly?'

'Obviously.'

'To Molly Hooper?'

'She's the only Molly we know and the only Molly I love.'

'You love...?' John spluttered and Sherlock finally turned around.

'Yes, I love her...now are you going to let me propose without interrupting.'

'I'm sorry. I just...I can't believe you kept this from you.'

'I kept it from you because I knew how hilarious your reaction would be and it hasn't disappointed me.'

When he turned back to Molly he was smirking and she couldn't help but return his smile but she still couldn't believe that this was actually happening.

'So, Molly? Will you marry me?'

'Are you sure Sherlock? I mean, this is so sudden. We've only been together just over a week. Maybe you need to think about it.'

He huffed. 'I have thought about it...haven't I Dad?'

Molly frowned and looked at Sigur. The older man was smiling as he nodded his head. 'This wasn't a new idea Molly dear. Sherlock asked me to get my mother's ring from our bank about a month and a half ago. We had it resized for you and it's been under the tree for at least three weeks.'

Molly's reaction was one of shock. 'Three weeks? How...how did you know I'd be here three weeks ago? That we'd even be together?'

Sherlock dropped the hand holding out the ring and sat back a little. 'It really wasn't hard Molly. All the threads were there. I knew how you felt about me, how I felt about you. I predicted that your mother would let you down for Christmas, after all it isn't the first time, and that if I invited you here you'd accept. All that was necessary then was for us to initiate our relationship which we did.'

'But marriage...'

'Is the natural conclusion. We fit together perfectly Molly...my feelings for you aren't going to change. You want to be in a married, committed relationship and to have children and I have no objection to either of those things so why wait?'

Molly took a deep breath and tried to centre herself. She didn't know whether to laugh or cry, to kiss him or slap him. She'd seen him do this before...seen the look of shock on John's face when she'd turned up at his therapists with an ambulance when Sherlock had predicted he'd need it weeks earlier. She'd just never experienced it directly herself.

Sherlock watched her reactions and after a few moments he knelt in front on her again on one knee.

'Molly, will you marry me?'

She shook her head and smiled. 'Yes, you absolutely impossible man, yes I will marry you.'

The smile that spread across his face seemed to light him up from inside and Molly couldn't help but return it as he pulled the ring from its box and placed it onto her finger. She could see his hand shaking slightly and seeing his nervousness just made her love him even more and she pulled him to her for a quick, passionate kiss.

As she did she heard his mum telling Mycroft to go and get the champagne and his reluctant reply.

She pulled away from Sherlock and looked the ring on her finger. 'I still can't believe you did this...that you knew that long ago that you'd propose and that you didn't say anything.'

He lifted her hand and kissed the back of it. 'It wasn't time, we weren't ready, but we are now.'

'Next time, let me know if you have any long term predictions so I can be in on the decision making.'

She saw him bite his lip and grimace slightly.

'What? What have you done?'

He shrugged slightly. 'I might have booked the church...'

She punched his arm. 'Oh my God, that's why your parents wanted to introduce me to the vicar. When? When have you booked it for?'

'New Years day. We can cancel it if you're not happy but your dress is due to be delivered in two days.'

Molly closed her eyes and sighed.

She felt his knuckle under her chin, lifting her face slightly and she looked at him.

'I just didn't want to wait. I love you, I want to be with you. I want you living with me so we can get on with our life together. But if you want to wait then I'll wait...as long as it takes.'

Once again she shook her head. 'No, it's OK. I want that too...more than anything. New Year's Day it is then.'

As Molly stood next to Sherlock sipping champagne and receiving the congratulations of John and his family she almost had to pinch herself to check that she wasn't dreaming. Of all the Christmas presents she had ever received this had to be the best one.

**Oh I wish I'd posted it in time! Ah well, better late than never? We still have the wedding to go but let me know if you liked the proposal...and whose reaction did you like more? John or Mollys?**


	15. Chapter 15

**Thank you for all being so patient with this story. We're well past New Year's Day but we haven't got much to go now.**

**Chapter 15**

The next week had been a whirl of activity for Molly. She had stayed on at Sherlock's parents house at the insistence of his mother and she had to admit she was grateful...there was so much planning still to do if they were to get married in just a couple of days.

Sherlock had arranged for a special licence but they still had to meet with the vicar on Boxing Day to run through their reasons for marrying and what they wanted from the service. After that Sherlock had left with John and Mycroft to head back to London and Baker St. They promised to return on New Year's Eve and to bring Mrs Hudson with them.

Molly ended up phoning and e-mailing her friends to invite them and her closest ones had booked in to the local pub over new year so they could be with her for her wedding.

Her wedding...it still didn't seem real somehow. In all her fantasies about Sherlock she had never really thought that it would ever happen...and even though they had had a sexual relationship in recent days she had never expected him to actually have feelings for her.

She'd had to sit through many unbelieving phone calls from her friends but the most stressful one had been with her mother. She was only able to get through to her on the 30th December as she'd been out of the country and uncontactable. She'd holed herself up in Sherlock's bedroom to make the call.

'Hey mum, it's me.'

'Hello Mollsey, how was your Christmas? I've had a wonderful time with my friend Helen. It was so nice to feel the sun on my face...'

'Listen Mum, I've got something to tell you and it's going to be a bit of a shock.'

'You're pregnant! Oh Molly I knew you'd end up doing something like this. Why couldn't you just find a good man? You had Tom and you threw him away for no reason and now your going to be a single mum...'

Molly felt herself getting angry as her mum went off on one of her usual judgmental arguments. 'I'm not pregnant.'

'Oh...well that's good I suppose but you know you can't leave it too long. You're not getting any younger.'

'Mum, please...just let me tell you.'

'Fine...I'm sorry I spoke. Go on then.'

She took a deep breath and decided to just spit it out. 'I'm getting married...to Sherlock...on Wednesday.'

There was silence on the line for a moment and Molly bit her lip and winced wondering what part of that her mum was going to explode over.

'Wednesday...this Wednesday?'

'Yes, this Wednesday.'

'To Sherlock Holmes...the celebrity?'

Molly rolled her eyes at her mum's description. She knew perfectly well who Molly meant, she regularly asked about him so she had titbits to share with her friends down at her local bridge club. Her daughter and the famous detective.

'Yes Mum, to Sherlock. We got together a...umm...short while ago and he proposed at Christmas. He didn't want us to wait.'

'Because you're pregnant?'

'No mum, I already said I'm not pregnant.'

'But why else would he want to marry you?'

'Mum!'

'Oh don't give me that, you've been mooning over him for years...what's changed?'

Molly bit her lip and frowned. In some ways her mum was only voicing concerns she still had herself. It had been even harder the last few days since he'd returned to London as without the evidence of his feelings right in front of her it seemed more and more unrealistic as the time went by. Why was he with her?

'He...he loves me.'

'Well that's as maybe. The good thing is you've caught him and you're quite right to get married before he changes his mind. Oh my word, there's so much to do. I need to get an outfit, a hat...where is it taking place? London?'

'No, near his parents. I've booked you in to a local hotel...'

She gave her mother the details and then had to stay on the line for another three quarters of an hour whilst her mother gave her the third degree about all the details...the service, the guests, the dinner after. Molly was only rescued in the end by Violet tapping on the door and telling her that her lunch was ready. Molly had never been more grateful.

She'd bonded really well with Sherlock's parents over the last couple of days. Both were just overjoyed that their son had found someone and fallen in love.

'Oh my dear, we were starting to think it would never happen. It would have been such a shame...Sherlock was such a loving, emotional child. He had friends, he was settled...he needed people around him. Then after Eurus killed his best friend he changed, withdrew. He spent more time with Mycroft, following him around, emulating him...but Mycroft's different. He's always been more introverted, happy to be alone..but not Sherlock, not Sherlock.'

Violet had helped her try on her dress and made a couple of alterations for her. They'd chosen the simple meal that had been booked at the hotel near to the church. It wasn't going to be a big affair, only about 20 people in total but that was fine for Molly, just how she would have wanted it even if she'd had months to plan it. And at the end of the day she was marrying Sherlock and that was all that was important.

True to his word he returned along with John, Rosie and Mrs Hudson on the afternoon of New Year's Eve. Molly couldn't help the way her heart flipped over in her chest when she saw her fiancé. His eyes sought her out as he got out of the car and he was with her in a few strides and kissing her in such a way that his mother told him off.

'God Molly I've missed you more than I thought i would. I can't wait to get you in my bed tonight.'

Molly pulled away and shook her head. 'Uh uh no way. We aren't sleeping together tonight. You're in with John.'

Sherlock scowled. 'John? Why?'

'Because I want to wait until we're married. It's only an extra 24 hours.'

'I don't want to wait an extra 24 hours though...why should I wait?'

John chuckled as he walked passed the pair of them into the house. 'Good luck with that one Molly, he's got no concept of patience.'

Sherlock looked at his friend. 'That's because patience is boring. If I want something why can't I have it straight away...what's the point in waiting?'

'The point is you'll enjoy it more when you get it. Now come inside, it's freezing out here in the snow.'

He grabbed his own bag and Mrs Hudson's and followed her in still grumbling in a way that was making her laugh.

Inside she received a hug from Martha. 'Oh I'm so glad you and Sherlock have finally got together. It's going to be nice having another woman in the house.'

'Yes, I suppose so. Wow, I hadn't really thought about it but I suppose it makes sense to move into Baker St.'

Sherlock dumped the bags in the hallway and started to remove his coat and gloves. 'Of course it makes sense. My place is bigger than yours and closer to Barts. Plus we've got a spare room for any children we have.'

As the others moved through into the front room Molly caught Sherlock's hand holding him back.

She looked up at him shyly. 'Do you mean that? About us having children? Is it something you actually want for yourself or are you just saying it because you think I want them.'

He smiled and wrapped his hands around her waist. 'I do know you want them and I'll be honest that up until John had Rosie I hadn't ever entertained the idea of having kids but...honestly, yes, yes I want a child of my own...a child with you. I'll be rubbish as a dad but hopefully you'll tell me when I've gone wrong and make up for my short comings.'

This time it was Molly kissing Sherlock, her hands sliding under his jacket and up his back.

After a minute he pulled away and wagged his finger at her. 'Come now Molly, patience is a virtue remember.'

He laughed as she swatted his backside before she followed him in to join the others.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

The following day was crisp and white. There had been another fall of snow overnight. Molly woke early having barely slept with the excitement; she was running on adrenaline. Was it really possible that today was the day she married Sherlock Holmes? A month ago this hadn't even been a possibility. She turned and looked at the long column of ivory silk and lace hanging on the wardrobe and she hugged herself. She knew she was mad for agreeing to this so soon but she didn't care. Whatever the future held Molly was determined to embrace it one hundred per cent.

Nothing though prepared her for the sight of Sherlock waiting for her, with John by his side, as she walked down the aisle on Mike Stamford's arm. She saw his back first as he resolutely stood, facing forwards; the expensive suit fitting him to perfection, the sudden crease in the material down his spine as he flexed his shoulders. Then he turned his head quickly to check she was there and their eyes met and couldn't look away from each other.

He was so devastatingly handsome and Molly couldn't believe he was hers. She knew what she saw in him but she had no idea what he saw in her...she was just glad that he did.

The service passed in something of a blur but one moment stood out. It was the moment that Sherlock spoke his vows. He held her hand and looked in her eyes and the sincerity in his voice had her biting back tears of happiness.

'I, William Sherlock Scott Holmes, take thee, Molly Elizabeth Hooper, to be my wedded wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part, according to God's holy ordinance; and thereto I pledge myself to you.'

The language was old fashioned but it was how she had wanted it. She was very relieved that she made it through her responding vow without error. Just being with him, seeing his face, took away any nerves that she might have had.

As she walked down the aisle seeing her friends: Meena, Sally stood with Lestrade, Mrs Hudson, and her mum all smiling back at her she thought her heart would burst. She couldn't stop smiling and it seemed, for once, that neither could Sherlock. As they made it to the church doors he couldn't wait any longer and he took her in his arms and kissed her and it was a kiss that held all the promise of their wedding night to come. They just had to get through the celebration meal first.

They'd married at 2pm and so it was dark by the time they all arrived at the local hotel. Molly had never had so many photos taken of her and she was glad when the photographer finally left, shoo'ed away by Sherlock even though he'd complained that he hadn't taken pictures of the speeches or their first dance. Molly didn't care though, they wanted to just relax with their friends now not put on a show for photos that would barely be looked at in the future.

She hadn't really given much thought to the speeches until Sherlock stood up and tapped on his glass. If she was honest they hadn't discussed them and she'd assumed they wouldn't be having any.

'Given what happened at John's wedding I'm not planning on talking for long...'

There was a cheer from Lestrade and Mrs Hudson at that which made Molly laugh.

'I'm not a good man. I can be thoughtless, purposefully cruel, heartless, ignorant to other people's feelings and crass. So, how is it that Molly loves me? For all my intelligence I'm not sure that it is something that I will ever understand or comprehend fully. The only thing I do know is why I love her.'

He turned slightly and looked down at her and the softness of his expression as he looked at her made her feel quite emotional.

'Molly, I love you because you are the most beautiful person I know, inside and out. You are steadfast and loyal and you show me daily how to be a better human being. Bit by bit you've taken over a heart that I hadn't even known existed and now I can't imagine it beating for anyone but you. Molly Holmes, my wife, I will endeavour to be the man you deserve but even when I fail I know you will love me anyway just as I will always, always love you.'

Molly couldn't help it, she stood and cupped his face pulling him to her for a kiss as their friends and family cheered and wolf whistled.

**I do hope you liked this, I'm not sure how good I am at writing sentimental stuff. Anyway, one more chapter to go and I'll be back on ground I know...shall we bring on the smut?**


	16. Chapter 16

**Well guys, here we are at the end once more. I'm so glad that you've enjoyed this fic and thank you for letting me off about the late posting. I think we're about on time for the Russian Orthodox Christmas so many happy celebrations to any Russian readers out there.**

**Shall we see how the wedding night goes?**

**Chapter 16**

As they sat back down and John stood up Sherlock leant into her whispering in her ear. 'Can't we just leave now? I'm bored of all this socialising. I just want to be alone with you.'

Molly rolled her eyes and shook her head, smiling back. 'Not yet. I still want my first dance with you.'

They were interrupted for a moment by John recounting the tale of Sherlock of the first time he ever heard Sherlock apologising to anyone and how that person was Molly.

Molly leant closer to Sherlock. 'I forgot to ask, can you even dance?'

He gave her slow smile which had lust spiralling through her body. 'Oh Molly you have no idea.'

She giggled nervously and then tuned back into John, trying to ignore Sherlock's hand on her thigh, his fingers sliding across the lace of her dress in a way that had her wanting more.

John had finished a funny, derogatory tale about Sherlock but had now turned more serious. He was talking about Mary and how it was vital that everyone take the chance for love when they can and how happy he was that Sherlock had finally woken up to the importance of that. The sincerity in his voice and the memory of Mary brought tears to Molly's eyes and when she glanced at Sherlock he gave her a sad smile and she knew he was remembering their friend as well.

John raised his glass and turned to them. 'To Molly and Sherlock. I wish you all the happiness in the world, you both deserve it.'

Everyone stood and raised their glasses in a matching salute. 'To Molly and Sherlock.'

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

It was an hour or so later when they moved to the small bar area. There wasn't really much of a dance floor just a square of wooden flooring off to the right of the bar. There also wasn't a DJ. The music was just played from a stereo behind the bar. But it was small and informal and intimate and as far as Molly was concerned it was perfect.

Sherlock passed the bar staff a usb stick with a playlist he'd put together and as a violin started to play the group hushed and Sherlock stepped forwards and held his hand out to Molly.

She stepped into his embrace and was pleasantly surprised as he started to expertly move the two of them around the dance floor.

'Did you compose this?'

He nodded and smiled. 'It's all for you Molly. I started writing it a year ago but I didn't realise at the time that it was you that was inspiring it. It was only after that phone call and my admission that I realised what else I had been repressing all this time...my true feelings for you. I think they scared me at first; challenging as they did the image I had of myself. I'm not scared anymore Molly. With you by my side I don't think I'll ever be scared again.'

As the music drew to a close he bent his head to hers. 'Now can we leave? You have no idea of the things I want to do to you tonight Molly Holmes and I'm tired of waiting.'

She loved hearing her new name on his lips and this time she nodded her head shyly and he pressed a fairly chaste kiss onto her mouth as their friends and family cheered. He then took her hand and turned to them all bidding them good night. That brought even more cheers and some laughter as they left the room and before Molly quite knew it they were making their way into the hotel's bridal suite and closing the door behind them.

Sherlock let go of her hand and made his way over to open the complimentary bottle of champagne as Molly took a look around the room. The fire in the hearth was lit and, as they hadn't turned on any of the lights, was the main source of lighting in the room. Their luggage, which had been brought over that morning, was placed to one side but dominating the room was the four poster bed.

Molly made her way over and let her hand slide up the old wooden post at the foot of it when she felt Sherlock walk up behind her. He passed her her glass of champagne and she turned to him; slowly, they clinked their glasses together in a toast and she smiled almost nervously at him.

'To us Molly, Mr and Dr Holmes. It has a nice ring to it don't you think?'

She nodded her head, still hardly believing that she was his wife as she took a sip of the cool alcohol before she relinquished the glass to Sherlock's waiting hand. He put them both down on the bedside cabinet and then he pulled her closer.

'Molly, you looked so beautiful today. I don't think I've ever really been honest with you about how attracted I am to you. From the moment I saw you walking down the aisle I've been wanting to kiss you.'

She looked up at him and grinned. 'So do it.'

He bent his head to capture her lips and she felt her heart rate pick up a notch. She wondered if she would ever tire of this brilliant, infuriating, gorgeous man that she could now call her husband. Only he could have swept her off her feet so fast and so decisively. A month ago they hadn't even been together and now it was their wedding night...it was madness, utter madness, but she wouldn't change it or him for the world.

She moaned as his tongue invaded her mouth and she could feel her desire for him, always there just below the surface of her being, starting to come out to play.

Her hands moved up his chest and started to undo the buttons and as the kiss ended she moved her lips to his chest, kissing the skin as it was revealed to her. She squeezed her eyes shut as she kissed his scar thanking god that he had survived that gunshot to be with her here, now.

His hands threaded through her hair and he must have guessed her thoughts because he kissed the top of her head and whispered, 'it's OK, I made it.'

She looked up at him and felt a ripple of fear run through her. 'I can't ever lose you, not now, it would kill me.'

He sighed and she saw his eyes flick upwards as he thought about his answer.

'I can't make you any promises Molly. My life is dangerous, so is yours now that you are by my side, but I can promise you this...I will always evaluate the risk and will never knowingly put either of us at more risk than I have to. And just so you know, you wouldn't be the only one devastated; my life is and would be meaningless without you in it...I know that now.'

They kissed again and this time when they broke off Sherlock turned her so he could start to undo the fastenings at the back of her dress, swearing at how fiddly they all were.

'Are you sure I can't just rip it off you?' He asked at one point only to be told off by her.

'No, I want to keep my dress, intact preferably.'

He bent her over slightly and let his hands roam over her front as he kissed the side of her neck. She could feel his erection pressed against her backside and it made her moan. 'I'm an impatient man Molly Holmes...I hate waiting.'

She giggled and wriggled her bum against him. 'Tough, man up and get me out of this dress husband.'

He chuckled and stood upright again as his fingers got to work once more deftly undoing each button. 'Hmm...I find I like being called husband...'

'Take me husband...ravage me husband...make love to me husband.'

They both laughed at this and Molly loved how easy it was between them, humour and affection and lust all blended together.

Finally he finished and she turned back to him before slowly letting the dress slide down until it landed at her feet. Underneath she had on a corset and stockings which had made her blush when his mother had got them out for her earlier that day.

'Oh hush now my dear, I've had a wedding night myself you know. Men like to unwrap you and it's fun to give them another gift underneath. I had him give me your measurements and I had this custom made for you.'

Molly had shook her head at both his mother buying her this item and Sherlock knowing her measurements without her ever having given them to him. At least she wouldn't have to worry about him buying her gifts in the wrong size like Tom had always managed to do.

'Oh Molly...' was all he could manage.

She saw his pupils dilate and his mouth hang open a little and in that moment she felt truly beautiful, more than words could ever have managed.

His hands slid up and over the silk bodice from the pinched in waist to her pushed up breasts and he bent to kiss the mounds of flesh spilling over the top.

Without warning her he suddenly picked her up and she squealed a little before wrapping her legs around his waist. He carried her the short distance to the bed and then he placed her down on it, kissing her once more before he stood back up.

'You wait right there.' He uttered in a low, hoarse voice, then he started to remove his clothes.

Molly leant up on her elbows and bit her lip as she watched him strip for her. His body was simply perfect; muscular, lean and athletic. Watching him made her arousal deepen and her mouth water.

When he was finally naked he crawled onto the bed to join her and they both smiled before kissing once more and this time she could feel his erection rubbing teasingly against her centre. She reached down so she could try to move her knickers and position him but he pulled back and tutted. 'Ah ah not yet...now who's being impatient. I still have to unwrap you first and I plan to make you orgasm at least once before I finally have you.'

He chuckled when Molly pouted her lips before kneeling up between her legs so he could unclip the front of her corset. He took his time, slowly revealing her body to him and once her breasts were fully released he leant back down to capture her right nipple in his warm mouth.

Molly let her eyes close as she wove her hands into his curls. Her body arched towards him involuntarily as she sought out some friction from her over sensitive core. She felt one of his hands slide down the side of her body until he gripped her hip and he rocked his body against her once or twice until she was almost begging him for more. Finally his fingers slid into her knickers and she felt him pressing and circling her clit with those long, dexterous digits. It was almost too much for her but he seemed to know just how much stimulation to give her to keep her teetering on the edge.

She'd thought it couldn't get more tortuous but then he withdrew his hand and sat back up leaving her reaching for him. 'Please...god...Sherlock...'

He smirked at her desperate pleas and cocked an eyebrow. 'Mmm...time to taste you...make sure you're vocal about what you like I need to learn...and believe me Molly when I say I'm a fast learner.'

He wasn't wrong. After he'd pulled her pants down her legs he spent a moment breathing her in before his tongue tentatively licked her. He spent a few minutes trying out different methods, listening to her responses and as he perfected his technique Molly writhed under him as she came. She swore she saw stars, her orgasm was that powerful, but rather than sating her it seemed to drive her on and as Sherlock sat back up, smirking once more and wiping his lips she sat up with him and pulled him to her for a passionate kiss that had both of them groaning and wanting more.

She quickly pushed him onto his back and straddled him and this time she had no time for patience. She took hold of his now leaking cock and positioned him before sliding down onto him. This time it was Sherlock doing the begging as he gripped her hips in a bid to slow her down.

'Fuck Molly...god...'

She leant over him and caught his lips with her own and as they kissed she started to rock her body against his, feeling him deep inside her, connecting them both so intimately that she wished it would never end. How had she got so lucky as to call him her husband? To know that they could and would do this for a lifetime.

As they moved together she could feel his hands pulling and touching and sliding over her. He seemed to have learnt more about her body in a couple of weeks than other guys had leant in months. It was like he'd been made for her pleasure.

This time when she came he came with her; thrusting up and into her so hard her knees left the bed.

As they caught their breath Sherlock cupped his hand against her face and kissed her so sweetly and with so much love that it made her breath catch in her throat.

'God Molly, I love you. I've never been much of a fan of Christmas but having you as my wife has and always will be the best gift of my life.'

She bit her lip and smiled back at him. 'I love you too Sherlock Holmes.'

**And there we shall leave them. Hope you liked it. I shall be back soon with something new for you...shall we try an AmnesiaLock?**


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